100 Short One-Shots
by nyx thranduillon
Summary: So, I have been lured in to NirCele's 100 drabble challenge too. I am aiming to do them in order although timewise they will not run concurrently and Legolas will hopefully make an appearance in each, even if it is just in reference. Hope you enjoy :)
1. Chapter 1 - Fire

**#1 - Fire**

Staring into the flames of their small camp fire, Legolas allowed his thoughts to wander. His heart longed for the beauty of his beloved home, for to him it was indeed beautiful, even though parts were now so twisted and dark elves dared no longer stray onto their paths. He pictured his father, seated at the worn desk in his study, poring over reports and orders, the ever present crystal goblet close to hand and filled with the heady, rich, ruby wine he loved. What he would not give to be able to open the door and walk through it. To tell him how much he loved and missed him. To apologise for his absence when he knew he was needed most and to promise he would return, safe and whole, bringing the news of the dark lords defeat and the dawn of a new world with him.


	2. Chapter 2 - Pet

**#2 - Pet**

A pair of huge eyes peered from behind one of the ornate tapestries which adorned the walls of the great dining hall and quickly scanned the room. Seeing his father was finally alone the small elfling crept out from his hiding place and scurried across the stone floor, his gaze darting about the room. If she should appear now he did not know what he would do. With a small sigh of relief he reached his target and burrowed under the edge of his father's long silver robes.

"Legolas?" Thranduil looked down, an indulgent smile upon his fair features. "What is the matter ion nin? I thought you were playing with your new friend."

He placed a hand upon the elflings head and began combing his long, elegant fingers gently through the child's flaxen hair.

Relaxing slightly under the safety of his father's touch Legolas smiled and looked up. His father always knew when he was troubled or upset, in fact, he amended to himself, his father seemed to be able to read his every mood.

"I…"

"Ah! There you are." A high pitched childish voice broke in before Legolas could speak. "You naughty little thing. I have been looking for you _everywhere_! Look, I has a new ribbon for you to wear."

Thranduil tried not to chuckle as a small, dark haired elleth, just about a head taller than his son came rushing over, brandishing a pink ribbon in one hand and he felt the small body beside him nudge closer into his legs.

"Now, Legolas."

The king moved his hand down to the small of his sons back and gave a small push.

"Arwen is our guest."

He smiled at the young elleth then looked down at his son.

"You should go and play nicely. Look she has a very pretty ribbon for you to wear. Don't you see?"

"Silly!" Giggled Arwen and simpered at the king. "His name isn't Legolas. It's Fluffy!"

"Fluffy?" Thranduil frowned

"Fluffy" Arwen replied emphatically with a shake of her head. "He's my pet rabbit."

A sudden sympathetic understanding rushed over the king and as his son's eyes pleaded for intervention he smiled ruefully. Legolas was just about to learn that sacrifices sometimes had to be made to ensure diplomatic relationships were maintained.


	3. Chapter 3 - Transportation

**#3 - Transportation**

It was stuck. It was, most emphatically, stuck. Legolas sighed. This day was not going at all to plan. Firstly he had awoken to a light misting of rain, then the dwarf had refused to awaken until almost shaken out of his bed. The fire to heat their morning porridge had been most uncooperative and the twins had not arrived until almost mid day, then had spent what seemed like hours lamenting the cramped quarters they had been assigned and poking, figurative, holes in his design.

Now it was stuck.

It had taken almost all of the day, and most of Legolas' patience, to persuade Gimli that he really should board and the remainder of the time placating Elrond's sons but finally they were ready and he had cast off.

He should have known it wouldn't all be plain sailing but he thought that they could have at least set off before problems arose. He sighed again and jumped gracefully over the side, landing with a small splash in the shallow waves, calling the twins as he went. They may as well be useful and help push. After all. They wanted to see their parents again too.


	4. Chapter 4 - Plants

**#4 Plants**

High on the walls at his post overlooking the palace the young sentry listened to the beautiful song as his eyes followed a slender figure moving in the garden below. It had been this way for two weeks now and although he knew he was supposed to ensure that no one entered what had once been the beloved retreat of the Lady Finduilas, he was certain that, as the area now belonged to the new king and this regular visitor was by all counts held in very high esteem by said king, it would probably not go well if he asked him to leave.

The music helped of course, though what it was the fair haired elf lord sang of was a complete mystery as he sang in words the sentry did not understand. Still, they captured his heart and made him feel strangely wild and free as if he could take wing and circle the sky.

Although dusk was falling he could still make the elf out clearly, he shone with a pale silver glow that pulsed as he sang, running his fingers over leaves and stems, turning this way and that as if to ensure he left no plant or tree untouched. A dance of such exquisite elegance and beauty that it made the man want to weep for his own clumsiness in compare.

That morning, he had felt compelled to descend to the garden himself. After the elf had gone he had quietly entered the forbidden area, curiosity overtaking sense in the overwhelming need to know why the elf sang, why he came to this place and danced. His mouth had opened wide in astonishment at what he had found. The garden, so long neglected and unloved, so long overgrown and abandoned was changed. Flowers filled its corners, bushes seemed to have moved back to allow the paths to re-open and the small, central fountain had sprung to life once more, its cascades tinkling with the flow of crystal water.

He had heard of the magic of the elves but now, here he finally saw for himself that it was real and that night he resumed his watch with renewed vigour and when the song started opened his heart and felt the remains of the dark disappear, carried away forever as the roots of a new peace for the world were set down.

* * *

 **A/N**

I would just like to thank everyone for the wonderful comments I have received for these little pieces. This challenge has really got me back into the swing of things again. :)


	5. Chapter 5 - Threats

**#5 – Threats**

The voice grew louder and louder until it rose to a high pitched furious scream then suddenly all was quiet and it seemed like forever since he had heard such beautiful silence.

It was gone. At long last it was done and as he listened to the beating of his own heart he realised he wanted now to live.

He ran, stumbling over rocks and boulders and the world crashed down around him in disharmonious pandemonium yet even in this noise there was relief.

A rustle and the cool breath of air swept him away into dreams, and what dreams. Of music and laughter and dancing and home. And silence.

He woke to pale mornings light, wrapped in soft, white linen, the gentle sounds of life whispering through lightly cracked windows and knew it was real.

Gone.

The voice that had so long been part of his life, its threats and promises always there, was dead. Killed by the very fire that had birthed it long ago.

The door opened and silence fled but this time the voice was love.

"You're awake Mr Frodo!"


	6. Chapter 6 - Water

**#6 Water**

The last few notes of our heartfelt lament fade to join the incessant roar of the hungry river and the small craft bobs gently as if in farewell before turning in the increasing swell of the rushing water and being swept away from view. I know it will journey over the boiling falls that call out their impatience not far ahead and wonder how far the boat will carry its brave and loving burden.

For he was both those things.

I know that now.

That man of Gondor, who first seemed arrogant and over proud. Uncaring of the wider world, seeing only 'his' city and its needs. Denying his future king, demeaning all other races and coveting the one thing he should not.

I was blind.

I could not see.

The pride of a warrior who has pledged his life to save his home. The arrogance of a leader who knows his men will follow wherever he goes because he has won their respect. The care for a land under constant siege with none to aid in its defence. The mistrust of a sometime ruler claiming a throne long abandoned to its fate. The desperate desire for a trinket to protect and set free all those he loves so dear and restore their lives to peace whatever the consequences to those he does not know.

At last I understand as the rivers song swells around me and I turn back to pick up my bow.

We were not so unalike he and I.


	7. Chapter 7 - Wind

**#7 Wind**

The elf's nose wrinkled as he turned his head to peer at the dwarf marching stolidly beside him, short legs taking two strides to each one of his own. Why the cursed nuisance felt the need to stay close to his side was beyond the immortal's comprehension, unless it were to make it easier for him to make his barbed comments heard of course. With an elegant shake of his head the elf dismissed the creature from his thoughts and wished he could dismiss him from his presence as easily. They walked on.

The dwarf muttered.

The elf ignored the dwarf.

The dwarf muttered again.

The elf still ignored the dwarf.

They walked on.

The elf gradually became aware of a low growling noise coming from the vicinity of the dwarf. He glanced over and for a brief moment thought he saw the dwarf pause mid step and frown before carrying on. His nose wrinkled again.

And still they walked.

The dwarf muttered and rubbed his stomach

The elf watched from the corner of his eye and said nothing.

The dwarf muttered and stopped.

The elf walked on.

The dwarf did not follow.

The elf, torn, finally stopped, nearly tripping over his own feet in his uncertainty.

The dwarf exclaimed.

The elf turned around.

The dwarf raised his leg and let out a loud, rasping noise, the like of which the elf had never heard before.

The elf stared, puzzlement etched on his face.

The dwarf grinned in self satisfaction and began to move once more.

"Better out than in Laddie!"

The elf shook his head and watched the dwarf walk past.

The dwarf winked.

The elf wrinkled his nose and began to follow the dwarf once more. He would definitely never understand the strange creatures and deep down felt that if they all smelt like this one, he would never wish to try.

* * *

 **A/N**

Sorry, I know it's crass and childish, but I just couldn't resist!


	8. Chapter 8 - Hobby

**#8 Hobby**

Not many people knew that the great Elvenking had a hobby and even fewer knew what it was. Oh yes, everyone had heard of his penchant for collecting shiny things, like gemstones and gold. Some even called him the 'Magpie King', although never to his face mind you, but his _real_ hobby, the thing he loved to do most whenever he could find time, was a very closely guarded secret.

Gliding serenely down the corridor, no one who saw him would have known that Thranduil was deep in thought, planning out in his mind his next project. Rounding a corner his heart began to beat a little quicker as he neared the plain, oak door which was his destination. He always felt this way at the beginning of a new tapestry, the thrill of creating something new, something never before seen was indescribable. Turning the key in the lock and pushing open the door he smiled as he saw the waiting loom with its emerging portrait of a fair, laughing elfling hiding at the top of a tall beech, and walked swiftly to its sturdy frame, ready to forget the cares of the realm for another few hours. His fingers busy, his heart at peace.


	9. Chapter 9 - Tradition

**#9 Tradition**

Under her mother's critical gaze the young elleth turned slowly on the spot, trying to contain the urge to jump up and down with excitement, she still could not quite believe that she had been chosen. The silken fabric of the beautiful gown, finished only last eve, flowed elegantly around her legs as she moved and rippled with the verdant greens of new spring growth. Her mother smiled through tears of joy as she finally faced her again, completing the circle and as she opened her arms the elleth joyfully rushed forwards into her embrace.

They clung together for a few precious moments before her mother finally let go pushing her away and smoothing the fabric with muttered tuts and admonishments for risking ruining the garment in the crush but the elleth knew it was a façade only. Pride and joy shone from over bright eyes as hands unnecessarily swept imagined creases away showing the sharp words for the lies they were.

A knock at the door interrupted the mother's flow and with a last gentle tug at her daughter's skirt she crossed the room to enquire whom was without as her daughter moved to the far corner so as to be out of sight if the door opened. It would not do to be seen too soon in her finery. After all, there were a couple of hours yet until she made her formal appearance and the ceremony began. Butterflies began to dance in her stomach again at the thought of what was to come.

There was a muted conversation at the door, which eventually opened just wide enough for a large, square box to be passed through then closed again after a few more words. Eyes fixed upon the item held within her mother's hands the youngster walked slowly back to the centre of the room then raised her quizzical gaze. The voice at the door had sounded very familiar and she had heard that this would happen, yet she could not believe that the prince himself would have played messenger, no matter how important the errand. She reached for the lid of the box and paused, sharing a nervous smile with her equally awed parent, before lifting it with trembling fingers. There, nestled within a cocoon of dried, scented herbs and grasses sat the most wondrous thing she would ever have the privilege to hold, and tonight, under the stars, she would herald the beginnings of the spring equinox festival by placing it upon the head of their beloved king.

 **A/N**

Thanks for all the reviews. They are much appreciated.

As is often the way this little snippet has developed into a full head cannon story in my mind and I rather think I will just have to write it out in full at some point. :/


	10. Chapter - Earth

**#10 Earth**

Pressing another seed into the newly dug soil with earth stained fingers Sam smiled in contentment and looked over at the tall slender figure tending the roses in the next bed. There was nothing better than a spot of gardening to make you feel better and to do so in the company of a woodland prince was the stuff dreams were made of.

Straightening his back with a small groan he stood back, contemplated the area they had so far cleared and groaned again. When Legolas had asked if he would like to help with restoring what used to be Finduilas' garden as a wedding gift for Strider and the Lady Arwen he had initially baulked at the idea, wondering how he, a mere hobbit could possibly hope to offer any assistance to an elf as tuned to nature as the prince. His misgivings had, however, been swept aside in easy camaraderie and toil as they worked together, sharing their knowledge and expertise, if not exactly equally, then enough to assure Sam of his worth.

Picking up the small, wooden bucket at his feet he began to gently trickle water over the freshly planted seeds and smiled to himself as a soft, sweet song lifted into the air. When finally it was finished he was certain this would be the finest garden in all of Arda. Outside of his own in The Shire of course. That went without saying.


	11. Chapter 11 - Breaking the Habit

**#11 Breaking The Habit**

"What have you done with it?" The grim faced young ranger shouted as he turned his pack upside down, emptying the contents willy nilly onto the mossy ground.

"I swear, if you do not give it back you prissy princeling…"

Legolas grinned and jumped out of the way as a tinderbox came flying towards his head.

"Now Estel." He chuckled annoyingly. "I am sure I do not know what you mean."

"Don't know, indeed." Aragorn growled. "There are only two of us out here, elf, and I know I packed it."

He threw the, now empty, backpack on the ground in disgust.

"So, why is it not here?"

He stalked towards Legolas, who was trying, unconvincingly to maintain a guilt free air.

"And don't try that innocent, wide eyed look on me, it won't work."

There was a muffled squawk as the young man made a lunge towards the elf only to find himself suddenly lying on his back with said elf seated elegantly on his middle, effectively pinning him down for all his slight appearance.

"Now, Ranger." Legolas spoke as calmly as if they were merely passing the time of day. " _If,_ I knew what you were talking about, I would suggest that if it were lost it would be all to the good." He leaned down and sniffed loudly. "It is a nasty, smelly habit that I am sure Master Elrond would not approve of, nor indeed your brothers, and I do not understand what benefit you think it can possibly have." He raised a quizzical eyebrow and stared down at the supine ranger.

"It is not a habit!" Aragorn retorted swiftly. "It helps narrow my focus and aids thought, that is all."

"Ah," Legolas grinned ferally. "So it is not something you _need_ , merely something that you find occasionally useful."

"Well, yes, I suppose you could say that." The young man agreed slowly, wondering what trap he was about to fall into.

"In that case, there is no _need_ for you to get yourself worked up because it _appears_ you have mislaid it. Is there?"

The elf regained his feet in one fluid motion, springing up and out of the way as Aragorn lay spluttering for words.

"I assume we may continue on our journey now that little matter has been settled." He lilted, suspiciously bright of tone. "After you have re packed your belongings, of course." His nose wrinkled as he inhaled deeply.

"And so much pleasanter it will be without those noxious fumes too."

* * *

 **Not sure if this exactly fits the prompt but it's just what came to mind. :)**


	12. Chapter 12 - Betrayal

**#12 Betrayal**

Racing through the canopy the golden haired elf kept his eyes on the fleeing figures beneath, or more correctly, upon the burden flung carelessly over one of their shoulders. He still could not understand how the orcs had managed to come upon his patrol so swiftly, or with so little warning. It was as if the trees themselves had helped mask their passage.

Allowing his feet to run without thought the elf increased his pace, he could feel the warm trickle of blood as it ran from the wound in his side but he pushed the knowledge aside. As long as there was hope he would carry on. He knew what these foul creatures did to elven captives and he was not about to abandon the last of his warriors to that fate.

A gap loomed suddenly before him and as he gathered himself to make, what should have been, a routine leap to reach the next tree he suddenly felt the world pulled from beneath his feet. One moment he was gathering speed along a gnarled yet stout bough the next it was simply gone and there was nothing but fresh air beneath him. He tried to twist, to reach out, to grasp even the tiniest of branches, but it was not to be, as soon as his fingers brushed their woody surfaces they were withdrawn out of reach as the tree bucked and swayed in a manner he had never before encountered in all the years he had lived.

He fell. And as he fell his heart began to break. Not for himself, no, for 'though he knew it may well be his end, death held for him no fear. Nay. 'twas for the captive, disappearing now beyond all aid his heart did grieve.

* * *

 **Just want to say thanks to Lord Illyren, whoever you are, for the lovely comments on the last drabble :)**


	13. Chapter 13- Rebellion

**#13 Rebellion**

Seated in his favourite spot, high within the comforting security of the ancient oak's embrace the young elf sighed and turned his face to the stars. He knew that he must face his father at some point, that delaying the inevitable was only going to make matters much worse but still he lingered.

How could he not?

Out here in the forest was where he belonged. Out here he felt alive and free. In tune with the life and beauty that surrounded him. Here he could be at one with the great song of the forest, his own merging into its seamlessly, their harmonies intertwined until he could almost feel the stretch of the trees roots as they burrowed deep into the loamy ground beneath, taste the sweet sap as it rose to nourish each twig and leaf, bend like a branch under the breeze gently rifling through the canopy.

Yes, this was where he belonged. And this was where he would keep returning, no matter how many guards he had to outwit. No matter how many times his father cajoled, forbad and ordered. He belonged to the forest and nothing, or no one, was going to keep him away.

* * *

 **Thanks for all the reviews guys.**

 **To Lord Illyren - here's a little more to expand on the closeness of certain elves to their trees :) Thanks for the lovely comments. I don't really know where the ideas come from they just pop into my mind. Usually at the strangest of times! :)**


	14. Chapter 14 - What Happens Now?

**#14 What Happens Now?**

.

How did I not see?

I heard the warning,

yet heeded it not.

I am lost.

Adrift.

Alone.

.

Warm arms embrace me.

Soft words enfold me.

Anchor me.

Steady me.

Return me to the here and now.

Yet part of me remains there.

Lost.

Listening to the gulls.

Smelling the salt on the air.

Longing for a home I have never known.

.

Tell me.

What am I to do now my heart has flown?

* * *

 **Thought I'd try a little something different with this one. Let me know if you think it worked. Please :)**

 **Lord Illyren - Sorry if this one is less cheerful again but I can't help where the bunnies take me. I am finding that having to restrict the length of these stories is rather refreshing and makes me really think about every word I write. Would love to see what you could do with them :)**


	15. Chapter 15 - Retaliation

**Very much AU!**

 *********Warning for character death*********

 **#15 Retaliation**

Spinning on booted heels, a battle worn hand found the hit of the ornately carven sword at his belt, drew it seamlessly free and raised it high in one swift blur of movement before bringing it down in a blow designed to obliterate the enemy who had dared to come close enough behind him that he could feel its warm breath rifle through his long, dark tresses.

A shout of warning.

A scream.

The world stopped, then tilted wildly as he dropped to his knees in the thick, dark mud staring in disbelief at the inert, once golden wood elf, laying in an ever expanding sea of crimson before him.

Vision blurred as tears began to fall from steel grey eyes like rain trying vainly to wash away the blood. His heart began to break and pain clawed at his chest as the shards sharpened themselves on his fëa.

How had he not known?

When had he lost the ability to tell friend from foe?

He never felt the arms of his twin enfold him or heard the soft soothing voice as Elladan tried to anchor him to the world. Never saw the love in his face or tasted the salt from mingled tears. All he felt was the pain, all he heard was the scream, all he saw was the horror, all he knew was death.

* * *

I know I really must try to write some happier stuff but this angsty muse seems to have got me in a headlock and won't let go! HELP!


	16. Chapter 16 - Count Down

**#16 Count Down**

 _Three._

The small figure almost lost within the leaves of the tree measures the distance with his eyes and waits.

 _Two._

An arm pulls slowly back, the firm, rounded projectile clutched tightly within the fingers of its hand, taking careful aim.

 _One._

The arm flies forwards in a single fluid movement, releasing the projectile as the figure ducks down to hide within the branches one more.

There is a brief moment of anticipatory silence which is abruptly broken by a very loud, un-regal dwarven curse, followed by a swiftly muffled giggle from between the leaves above.

"Legolas!"

The king turns to peer up into the branches but sees nothing. The imp has flown. He bends to retrieve the small acorn that has recently made his acquaintance, turns it over in his hand then throws it up into the air before catching it neatly and placing it in his pocket. He is an elf.

He is patient.

He can wait…

* * *

 **A/N**

Ok so I know it's short but at least I tried to lighten the mood this time. :)

Thanks for the feedback so far guys. It is very much appreciated.

Lord Illyren - Sorry the last one was so depressing. Hope this goes some way to making up for it ;). I have written a couple of original short stories before but most of my non fanfic related work is poetry of which I have had some actually published. :)


	17. Chapter 17 - Celebration

**#17 Celebration**

"Oof!"

The distinctly un-kingly expellation of air accompanied Thranduils abrupt rousal from reverie as a very excitable small bundle of golden hair and flailing limbs landed on his chest with a high pitched squeal.

"Comeonadaitstimetogetupnow."

The king groaned, trying unsuccessfully to turn over and bury himself under the covers as his son bounced up and down on the bed. He really should not have celebrated the signing of the latest contract with the wine merchants quite so heartily the night before.

"Pleaseadaplease!" The garbled words continued in a breathless rush. "Youpromisedtotakemesledgingwhenitsnowedandithas!"

Prising his eyes open and trying to ignore the pounding in his head, Thranduil could not help but smile at the joyfully expectant face thrust into his own.

"Alright, pen neth, alright. You win. I am getting up."

Laughing as his son squealed once more and clapped his hands with delight, the king threw back the silken sheet, covering the small prince in the process, then moved over to where his robes had carefully been hung the night before. Muffled giggling made him turn back to the bed where, after a short struggle, a small, fair elfling extricated himself, turned onto his stomach and slid, feet first to the floor.

"Can we go outside first please ada ? Large blue eyes pleaded up from under long dark lashes. "I promise I will eat breakfast afterwards."

Thranduil raised an eyebrow in mock contemplation although both already knew the answer he would give, he was unable to deny his beloved son anything.

"All right ion nin," he replied trying hard to maintain a serious expression. "Just this once."

Turning back to his clothing in an effort to hide his mirth, the king quickly began to pull on his breeches and under tunic whilst the little imp jiggled impatiently from foot to foot behind him.

"Are you ready now ada?"

Slipping his arms quickly into his long sleeves and fastening a belt around his waist, Thranduil decided that he was as dressed as he was going to be allowed to be that morning and nodded indulgently.

"Yes." He held out his hand. "I think I am ready ion nin. Come."

Thranduil felt his heart swell as another, smaller hand inserted itself into his and squeezed it gently as they exited the room in search of a sled and a snow covered slope with which to blow the last of his hangover away.

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 **A/N** Thanks for all the reviews.

Lord Illyren - Thanks. It's good of you to say so. I'm glad you found the last one a pleasant change and I hope this one is not too fluffy for you. As for predictability, I do try my best not to be ;)


	18. Chapter 18 - Count Up

**#18 Count Up**

 _One_.

Silently slender fingers caressed the small, well rubbed and worn object held loosely within their grasp as Thranduil smiled and mentally thanked the trees for the hundredth time for their most welcome message.

 _Two._

Taking careful aim, glittering eyes lovingly watched their target move along the path beneath him, anxiously scanning the lithe form for signs of pain or injury. The kings heart began to race as he found he was almost unable to refrain from leaping out from his hiding place to gather the son he had thought never to see this side of the sundering sea again into his arms and never letting go.

 _Three._

With a wide smile the small projectile was launched towards its intended victim and as he watched its graceful arc through the air with gleeful anticipation Thranduil felt the years fall away as he remembered when it had been he on the receiving end of the acorn. He had never thought then that it would be so long before he would take his revenge.

Too long.

A loud dwarven curse split the air making Thranduil's grin even larger, he had managed to teach his son something after all, then he was down from the tree and sprinting like an elf possessed across to where Legolas was rubbing his forehead, a huge grin of his own bearing testimony to their shared memory. Gathering his victim into his arms as if he were an elfling Thranduil breathed in, inhaling deeply of the well known scent unique to his son, finally knowing for certain what his heart had been telling him was true.

His son was safe. His son was home, and woe betide anyone who tried to take him away again.

* * *

 **A/N** This one is a short sister piece to Count Down ( Chapter 16 ) and will probably make more sense if you have read that one. :)

Please let me now what you think.

Lord Illyren - Glad the last one wasn't too fluffy. I must admit to having quite a soft spot for little Legolas and his father.


	19. Chapter 19 - The Lion and the Mouse

**#19 The Lion and The Mouse**

Eyes as huge as dinner plates stared out from a tear streaked, pale, small face as the young boy walked into the throne room flanked by two sturdy guards. His steps were firm even though his legs trembled and his head was held high, determination writ upon his brow.

"Here is the miscreant, your majesty."

Pushed forwards forcefully the child almost fell, only his lightness of foot and determination keeping him from ending up in a sprawled heap at the king's feet.

Thranduil unfolded his long limbs from his seat and rose, his face a cool mask. Towering over the youngling he stared down his aquiline nose, blue eyes glinting with masked emotion.

"Well!"

The single word elicited the widening of already fearful green eyes.

"What have you to say for yourself?"

Small feet shuffled briefly and the child swallowed audibly.

"S. ." The word was squeaked out from between lips made dry by nerves.

"I can't hear you, child, speak up!" The king roared and stepped closer, noting with satisfaction that, although shaking in his shoes, the child did not retreat.

"I am sorry. Aran Nin." The boy replied after taking a deep breath. "I did not mean to …"

"It is not I you should direct your apologies to, ion nin." The king broke in. Trying hard to maintain his stern mien. "'tis Elladan who lays, unconscious in the healers hall."

The child shuffled nervously again as tears began to flow anew from eyes already red with weeping.

"I…I…I never thought…"

"You never do." Thranduil snapped. "That is the problem."

"Sire, if I may speak."

A tall, dark haired young ellon pushed past the guards to stand beside the youngster, resting a hand consolingly upon his shaking shoulder.

"It was not entirely Legolas' fault."

Thranduil raised a kingly eyebrow and nodded slightly for the youth to continue.

"We, that is, my brother and I." The young elf began sheepishly, trying and failing to meet the king's eyes. "We, well, we, may have, suggested to Legolas that he was too young to be able to climb the old oak, the large one that stands where the river crosses the elven path." His voice petered out as the king inhaled loudly.

"Go on." Thranduil's voice was low and frost filled.

"Well," Elrohir swallowed nervously and continued. "We did not mean…we did not think…" He gulped as he was finally caught in the king's gaze and could not tear his eyes away, feeling like a mouse trapped in a lion's angry stare.

"We tried to stop him, sire, we tried to call him back but he would not stop. Elladan followed but he could not keep up, he was just so fast, so very fast, and we were calling and calling and telling him to come down, that we could see we were wrong, but then Elladan slipped and …" The youth stopped and gasped for breath.

"He fell."

The childish voice broke as it uttered the words.

"Elladan fell and it's all my fault."

"Nay, pen neth." Elrohir knelt to face Legolas. "It is our fault. We should never have doubted what a wood elf could do."

"Nay," Thanduil retorted sharply. Moving to stand beside his young son. "You should not." Placing his hand gently upon Legolas' head he looked down at the young twin. "Many have come to grief after underestimating an elf of Eryn Galen."

"But 'tis my fault Elladan is dead!" Legolas raised eyes riven by pain and anguish to his father.

It was then Thranduil's turn to kneel, gathering his young son into his arms as he did so.

"Oh, nay, nay, Legolas." The king soothed, stroking an elegant hand down the younglings back. "Elladan is not dead."

Legolas pulled back to stare at his father in puzzlement.

"He merely sleeps, ion nin." Thranduil smiled slyly, arching one dark eyebrow. "After all, he did fall into the enchanted river…"

* * *

 **A/N** Ok, so I know this is really too long to be called a drabble but I have had sooooo much trouble with this prompt and after having at least 4 different attempts finally decided that enough was enough and this one should stand. So, here it is. And I know it has been a while but hopefully now Christmas and other stupid RL stuff is out of the way I will find more time for writing and updating.

It just remains to say thanks for reading and hopefully you might think about dropping me a note to say what you thought :)


	20. Chapter 20 - Gems and Jewels

**#20 Gems And Jewels**

Taking one look at the grim expression on their prince's face, elves almost tripped over their own feet in their rush to get out of his way as Legolas stormed through the halls. Covered in blood and gore and fresh from battle he was indeed a grim sight. Reaching the tall, ornately carven doors marking the entrance to his father's private rooms he never missed a step as he reached out with both hands to push hard against them, leaving perfect, bloody handprints as they flew back, hitting the walls with a loud crash.

"Ion?" Thranduil turned stunned features upon his only son as he marched in like an avenging angel.

"No more ada!" Legolas shouted, his usually calm, beautiful face twisted in anger. "I will bear this no more!" Spittle flew as he continued his tirade. "Why should our people suffer and die whilst they…they sit in their green and peaceful havens…protected…safe…"

"Oh, Legolas."

Tears washed pallid tracks down grime covered cheeks as the king swept forwards to enfold his distressed son into silk covered arms, careless of the mess made to his own, regal clothing.

"How many this time?" Thranduil gently murmured whilst one strong, elegant hand smoothed circles between his sons heaving shoulders.

"T…two…ada." Legolas gulped out between sobs. "Tr…Trewath and Baralimben."

Thranduil's heart almost broke to see his son like this.

"I tried, ada. I just…there were so many…too many…I couldn't…" He stiffened and took a deep breath, pushing himself from Thranduil's embrace.

"You have to tell them, force them to help." Blue eyes glinted with fervour as he firmly grasped his father's shoulders and held his gaze. "Force _her_ to help. To give us what we need."

"Nay Legolas…"

"You must, ada." The younger elf broke in vehemently. "Can you not see?"

Letting go of his father he began to pace back and forth across the room.

"'tis not fair they leave us here to be overrun by the dark whilst they thrive in perpetual summer's peace. Sacrifice our people to keep the enemy far from their own doors."

Stopping suddenly he turned to his father once more his voice thick with desperation.

"It would only have to be for a while. Just long enough for us to be able to clear the forest, bring back some light, allow our people some rest from the constant fight."

"Ahh, Legolas…ion nin…" Thranduil sighed. "Do you really think their gems and jewels would bring what you seek?" Compassion filled his eyes. "It is hard, I know…"

He held up one pale hand to forestall interruption.

"I do know." He continued forcefully at his son's raised eyebrows. "You forget, I have been fighting the dark for far more years than you."

The prince bowed his head in mute acceptance and apology.

"Believe me when I say there have been times I have wished to go to Lorien and wrest that wretched trinket from the lady's finger on many occasion. But I have not."

Thranduil crossed the room, to the large open fireplace, his voice calm and collected.

"No, I have not." He reiterated as Legolas opened his mouth to speak. "I have not because I have no wish to. Oh, not because I am afraid of its power. Or what it could do to me." He continued as Legolas frowned. "But because I am afraid of what _I_ would do with _it._ Of what I would become if once it rested upon my own finger."

He raised his hand, twisting it this way and that as if watching something gleam and catch the light then turned sharply, levelling the hand out to point towards his son.

"Is this what you want?"

Legolas paled as his father appeared to grow in size, his face growing cold and harsh, pale blue eyes turning deep, verdant green and his long silver hair and pale blue robes darkening to take on the lustre of a raven's wing.

For a few heartbeats they stood together in the calm centre of a whirling storm. Eyes locked, before finally Thranduil's arm relaxed and the room returned to normal.

"No." The king continued as if nothing had transpired. "We have no need of curséd jewels ion nin." He smiled gently. "We have all we need right here."

* * *

 **A/N**

Ok, so I'm officially abandoning the idea of making these proper drabbles. Whatever I try I just can't keep them short enough!

Thanks for reading and if you want to leave me a comment I will probably be so excited I'll squee!


	21. Chapter 21 - Stealing

**#21 Stealing**

Watching the young hobbits tramp wearily up the steep incline Boromir found his thoughts drifting back to Gondor as he brought up the rear of the company. He could not help but worry about his home and family and the dire state he had left them in. His brother's face swam before him, pale and covered in mud and blood as he remembered their last battle together and how glad they were just to have survived.

A glint of gold in the sunlight caught his attention as Frodo turned to point out some feature to the wizard currently walking by his side and he scowled. Was this really the path they should be taking? Destroying something with so much power? They should be using it in their fight, the Valar knew his people needed all the help they could get!

His eyes raked Gandalf's form and his scowl deepened. Was the ring really so dangerous, or was it something else the wizard was frightened of? Was he worried that with it people would no longer need his services? That they would realise he was just a meddling old man who knew a few tricks and illusions. His gaze wandered back to Frodo and the object hanging from its chain around his neck. Yes. That was it. There was no danger in using the thing _against_ Sauron. It was only if Sauron used it against them that the problems would arise.

His mind began to race. Here they were, doing their damndest to take the ring _towards_ its master when they should be running with it in the opposite direction. Towards safety. Towards somewhere it could be guarded and used to do good. Towards Gondor. He smiled at the scenes beginning to play through his mind. Of his welcome home, holding the ring, their saviour, aloft. Of armies of orcs and dark creatures laid waste with one command as it sat upon his father's finger. Of the white city prosperous and at peace at long last. Children playing in its streets as soldiers laid down their arms forever and went back to their loving families, hale and whole. This was all he wanted. All he had ever wanted.

His mind cleared and he once more surveyed the company strung out before him. Maybe he could still persuade them… No. They would not listen. They were all too much in awe of the wizard or that blasted ranger. He would have to do this himself. Pick his moment…

Legolas felt a shiver run down his spine and turned to look at the man walking behind him. He did not trust this man of Gondor. Stepping lightly to one side he knelt down to inhale the scent of a celandine and allowed the man to pass before straightening to follow. The man needed an eye keeping on him, he thought to himself as they continued towards the white capped mountains in the distance and that is just what he intended to do.


	22. Chapter 22 - New Race

**#22 New Race**

Pippin had never felt so frightened, so _small._ Oh yes, he had been scared on the quest. Scared almost witless at times, but that was different. He was with friends, it was all an adventure really and he could fool himself into thinking that nothing bad was actually going to happen. After all he was with a wizard. This, however was no adventure. This was real. And he did not like it at all.

He gazed, wide eyed, around at the throng surrounding him and felt his heart begin to race within his chest. Why had he come out here alone? Why had he told Merry he did not need him? That he would be just fine? He wasn't.

"There's one of 'em!" A rough voice shouted out. "One of them there 'obbits."

Pippin shook as the crowd pushed closer.

"It is 'an all." A woman's face leered into his own. "Want to see what a _full sized_ lady 'as to offer me dear?" She grinned, exposing a row of uneven teeth.

Stumbling over his feet Pippin backed away, his mouth too dry to attempt a reply even if his mind could figure one out.

"Never 'ad me a 'obbit afore." The woman cackled as she took her ample bosom in both hands and jiggled suggestively. "But I'm always up for tryin' sommat new!"

The crowd laughed uproariously and Pippin felt his face flush both with embarrassment and shame. How had he been so stupid as to get himself in this position? He could hear Gandalf's voice clearly in his mind calling him a 'Fool of a Took' and his colour deepened then he yelped and leapt into the air as unseen fingers cheekily pinched his behind. Tears sprang to his eyes and he was finding it difficult to breathe, panic was setting in and his gaze darted wildly about in an attempt to find a way through the gathered throng.

"Fool of a Took!"

Gandalf's voice rang out again, so loudly this time that Pippin almost expected to see him come striding through the crowd.

"Whatever possessed you to come here alone?"

Pippin squealed as a firm hand grasped his shoulder but as he turned to look up at the figure now looming over him he sagged with relief. Never had he been so happy to see the grizzle haired old wizard.

"G..Gandalf?" He whispered as if afraid he was seeing things. "What…how..?"

"Merry told us where you had gone young hobbit." Gandalf explained. "He was worried for your safety, we all were. This is no place for naïve youngsters my lad, especially for those of a race never seen here before." He smiled as his eyes twinkled. "Even Legolas would not wish to come down here alone." He winked. "Now, let's get you back where you belong."

Pippin gladly allowed the old man to lead him away, back to the upper tiers of the city, his mind whirling as he began to relax once more. What an adventure he had to tell Merry about this time, a huge grin began to spread across his face, and to think he had gone where an elf would not…

* * *

 **A/N**

Thanks to all of you for reading and to those who have left comments so far. I do love reviews (hint hint) :)

Lord Illyren - Thanks. I'm glad you thought 'Stealing' was cool. Hope this one gives you a chuckle. :)


	23. Chapter 23 - Run and Run and Run

**#23 Run and Run and Run**

Thranduil stood at the window of his private chamber, looking down at a familiar and well loved sight, an indulgent smile playing around the corners of his mouth. In the gardens below a golden haired, slender elfling was chasing a small squirrel to and fro, joyful, childish laughter bubbling from his lips in accompaniment to the seemingly happy chattering of the animal itself. He had watched this game before, the pair apparently having become fast friends after an initial unhappy incident with a book and a pool some days previously.

His smile widened as the squirrel suddenly doubled back on itself, darted between the elflings legs causing him to trip over his own feet and land on his behind with a muffled 'Oof', then rush up the trunk of a slender beech.

The elfling turned his head to glare up the tree, the attempted angry glower directed the squirrel's way thwarted by an outburst of spluttered laughter as he picked himself up and sauntered over to where it sat looking down from his perch with, what Thranduil could only describe as, a self-satisfied smirk on its face.

The King sighed as Legolas climbed nimbly up to sit with his woodland friend. He wished with all his heart that his son could remain this innocent and free. That he could run and run and run through the forest like this forever, but his beloved home was becoming a dangerous place and unfortunately elflings must now grow up to become warriors. Tears sprang to his eyes as Legolas leaned back against the tree's trunk with the squirrel snuggled up on his chest and with a whisper he turned away, tucking away the memory of the sight against the future.

"Im iest…"

* * *

 **A/N**

Im iest = I wish.

(For the background on the book, squirrel and pool incident you might like to read 'The Trouble with Good Intentions' . Unless you already have, of course.) *Shameless plugging of own work*

Thanks for the reviews you awesome readers. I do appreciate it when you take the time.

Lord Illyren - Sorry to confuse you. I had it in my mind that Pippin had wandered into the lower circles of Gondor where perhaps it would be a little more 'bawdy' shall we say. ;)


	24. Chapter 24 - Filling In The Gaps

**#24 Filling In The Gaps**

"So," the hobbit began as his grandchildren gathered around eagerly awaiting another tale. "What story shall it be tonight?"

"The Quest!"

"Uncle Pippin and the Steward of Gondor!"

"How you met Strider!"

"Gandalf and the Fire Monster!"

Ten high pitched voices all piped up together demanding their own favourite story as Rosie looked up from her needlework and smiled in their direction. If her Samwise couldn't be working away in his beloved garden, then his next favourite pastime was sitting in his overstuffed armchair, surrounded by an adoring audience all eager to hear him spin one of his fantastic yarns. How true they all were, she wasn't quite sure, oh yes, she knew all about the elves and the war and Frodo's quest, but it had all been so long ago and far away and as time went by the stories got longer and wilder, with strange flying monsters, magical rings and eagles big enough to carry a full grown man, that she had begun to wonder. Sam wouldn't lie exactly. No, she wasn't saying that, but, well, he had always loved a good story and who was to say he hadn't added a few embellishments over the years, just to keep the little ones on the edge of their seats. Just inserted a few monsters here and there, a little danger to liven things up, filling in the gaps to make what had been basically a long hike to a faraway kingdom seem much more dangerous and exciting than it was.

"All right then." Sam laughed delightedly. "I'll tell you how I first met Strider as was, the King of Gondor, although we didn't rightly know who he was at first see. We thought he was a villain out to kill your uncle Frodo, aye, he looked like a proper nasty 'un then I can tell you…"

Sam's voice faded unto the background as Rosie shook her head indulgently and took up her work once more. She had heard this particular tale any number of times now, it was one of Sam's favourites, although she could never understand why and she was certain that if it ever made its way to the ears of the king of Gondor he would not be best pleased. It was a good job that hobbits and The Shire were much too unimportant for that to ever happen…

* * *

 **A/N**

Thanks for reading and especially for those of you who have commented on this little series. I do love reading your reviews ;)

Lord Illyren - I have often imagined Thranduil trying to hold on to every memory of Legolas' childhood like any parent. Especially one who can see their home becoming a war zone. It must be heartbreaking to know that however much you want to you can not protect your child from danger forever.


	25. Chapter 25 - Documentation

**#25 Documentation**

With a sigh Legolas replaced the long quill in its holder upon the desk and leaned back in the upright, uncomfortable chair he had been seated upon for the last two hours. This was the part of being a captain in his father's army he hated. Writing up the report of that days patrol. Give him a spider nest to destroy over this any day. Placing his elbows on either side of the parchment now covered with his, very untidy and almost undecipherable script he raised long, elegant fingers to his temples and began to massage them automatically. He knew that accurate documentation was a necessary part of maintaining an effective defence force but he would trade places with the most junior of his father's servants if they would take on the task.

Blowing out a long huff of air he reluctantly reached out to pick up the quill once more. One sector down, only three more to go…

* * *

 **A/N**

Thanks, as ever to readers and reviewers alike. I love hearing from you all.

Lord Illyren - I think Rosie is better not knowing ;) I'm glad you liked the characterisations. Thanks so much. :)


	26. Chapter 26 - Metal

**#26 Metal**

The tip of a small, pink tongue peeked out in concentration as the young elfling held a small metal object cautiously between finger and thumb, taking care not to cut himself on its pointed tip, placed it firmly in the slot cut across the top of a slender wooden shaft, then tightly bound it in place with a thin strip of brown leather. He hoped it would hold. Tying a last knot he held the piece up for inspection, shaking it gently, then exhaled in relief when metal and wood remained together. At last!

His first attempts had been terribly inadequate, with the leather nowhere near tight enough to prevent the sharpened metal tip from wobbling out of its wooden groove and that would never do. An arrow without a head was merely a stick and an archer unable to make his own arrows was, well, simply unheard of in the Greenwood.

Picking up the next small arrowhead and grooved shaft Legolas smiled. Only another forty nine to go and he would be closer to passing the preliminary stage of his weapons training. Mind you, he eyed the gluepot emitting a most noxious smell as it heated over the fire. He had also to fletch them and make them fly true first.

* * *

 **A/N** Thanks to all of you for reading and especially those of you who have been kind enough to leave comments.

Lord Illyren and 'Guest; - I must say I agree, paperwork sucks!


	27. Chapter 27 - Connecting The Dots

**#27 Connecting The Dots**

Seated quietly amongst the messengers from many lands and many races Legolas marvels at the peace and tranquillity surrounding the last homely house as the council gets underway.

Listening with half his mind he barely registers the dwarves as they tell of their worry over the fate of their king, Balin of whom apparently there has been no news since he led a group of their peers to Moria intent upon it's re-colonisation. He has no time for dwarves and their greed for precious metals and gems. His thoughts are still elsewhere when Gloin goes on to tell of an offer from Mordor to exchange an alliance for news of a certain Hobbit and it is only at the mention of rings of power that his attention is abruptly captured and held when Master Elrond outlines the origins of the rings of power, forged so long ago, and the one ring. Sauron's own ring. Forged to have control over all the others.

Sadness wells within his breast as he recalls the great tapestry in his father's study depicting the grandfather he never knew. Lost in battle before his birth during the last great alliance of elves and men to rid the world of Sauron's evil which ultimately failed due to Isildur's weakness.

His eyes narrow in distrust as a powerful looking warrior then stands to tell the council of his home, Gondor and the rising power in Mordor that is wreaking havoc upon it. He speaks too of a dream in which he heard of a broken sword reforged, a Halfling and something called Isildur's bane.

The elf's mind races to chase an elusive memory then as Aragorn stands, revealing himself to the company as Isildur's heir and along with the Halfling, or Hobbit whom Elrond introduces as Frodo, and Mithrandir relate their parts in the tale that has led them to Imladris. His heart misses a beat when the wizard relates how he proved the ring now in Frodo's possession to be indeed, Sauron's master ring and almost stops completely at how that ring came into the halfling's possession.

It is with mounting dread that he hears that tale and of Gollum's connection until finally he can bear no more and rises to his feet, distress and sorrow overwhelming his innate wish to remain inconspicuous and unknown as the dawning horror of the woodland realms failure overtakes him.

"Alas! Alas!" he cries. "The tidings that I was sent to bring must now be told…"

* * *

 **A/N** That last sentence belongs to Tolkien not me...

Thanks for reading. Maybe you could see your way to dropping me a little line or two before you go.

Lord Illyren - That would have been a whole different story... *chuckles* Glad you read it right in the end. Although... maybe I could explore that story sometime ;)


	28. Chapter 28 - Waybread

**#28 Waybread**

With a grumbled curse the dwarf slid inelegantly from the horses back, landing with a loud thud and clatter of metal. His companion followed swiftly, lightly leaping from his perch with an indulgent smile.

"I thought you would be glad to stretch your legs friend Gimli." The elf lilted with a raised eyebrow. "You seemed to be in need."

"Humph!" Gimli expelled. "I don't know why you should think that." With a glower he turned away ostensibly to bend and examine at a small rock beside the path but revelling in the pull of muscles as he flexed his back.

Riding was definitely faster than walking but you could not beat the feel of firm earth and stone underfoot. Bracing his hands upon his spine he straightened, leaning slightly backwards as he did so as to stretch muscles unhappy at being jolted in an unnatural position for so long.

"Aye, well." He gruffly stated turning back towards the elf who had been watching him with an amused smirk on his lips.

"I suppose we could take a wee break, laddie." His eyes glinted. "That poor, skinny thing you call a behind must feel every bump in the road."

It was Legolas' turn to expel a noisy huff of air.

"Talking of which, how about a bite to eat." The dwarf continued, ignoring the glare aimed his way. "Is there any of that cold venison left? Now I come to think about it a little red meat would go down a treat right now."

The elf tutted and spun around to retrieve a pack from their mounts back, contemplated throwing it at the dwarfs head then stopped as a sudden thought crossed his mind. Making a great show of opening the pack and delving through its contents he sighed dramatically before bringing out a small, leaf wrapped parcel and holding it out to Gimli with the biggest, sorrow-fullest eyes he could summon up.

"Aie, Gimli." He mourned softly. "There is but only one parcel left." He blinked, trying to control his features. "Here."

The dwarf took the parcel slowly, disbelief colouring his face as he turned it over in his hands.

"But where is the meat?" He blustered. "We could not have finished it all." He stared up at the elf. "Nay. We did not." He nodded in emphasis. "I myself saw you wrap the remainder and stow it within the bag. There was at least enough for one more meal left!"

It was all Legolas could do not to laugh at the expression of disbelief and confusion on Gimli's face. He knew the dwarf secretly hated Lembas but was determined to get his own back for the remark about his behind.

"Well," the elf said slowly, taking a step forwards. "If you are not hungry after all…"

"I never said that!" Gimli retorted, backing away clutching the small parcel as if Legolas was about to wrest it from his fingers. "It's just that I was not expecting this…" he paused briefly. "This delightful treat."

"Ah." Legolas beamed. "It does my heart good to hear you call it thus, friend Gimli." He reached for their second pack and removed a water skin. "Then it is all yours."

Moving away towards a grassy knoll he folded his long legs beneath him and sat beaming brightly as he pulled out a pale cloth bound bundle from said pack.

"I shall content myself with the poor, cold leftovers from last night's meal." Unfolding the cloth bundle in his lap he revealed the portion of cold venison Gimli had been so looking forward to.

"But! Hey!" Gimli could hardly speak for indignation. "You said…you said there was no venison left!" he fumed, staring at the meat in the elf's lap.

"Nay." Legolas replied jauntily. "I merely stated that there was only one parcel left." He pointed to the waybread still wrapped neatly in its leaf binding within Gimli's grasp.

"That is the last parcel of Lembas my dear Gimli." Lifting a piece of venison to his mouth he grinned widely from ear to ear.

"Why you!" Gimli growled and launched himself at the elf sitting so smugly before him. "Pointy eared, slippery…"

Quick as lightening Legolas was up and dancing away, laughter pealing merrily from his lips as he danced just out of reach of the irate dwarf. All thoughts of food forgotten.

"Never trust an elf!" The pair shouted simultaneously and Gimli's gruff laughter raised to join that of his friends.

* * *

 **A/N** Many, many thanks to all you wonderful readers out there and special thanks to those of you who have commented. It really does help keep me going :)

Lord Illyren - I must admit that Legolas was far more attentive than I would have been too. It doesn't take long for my mind to wander off in a little world of its own in the middle of boring speeches. Like you, I think I would have been inclined to keep the news to myself and let Elrond know quietly rather than shout it out to the whole meeting. Maybe that's because I'm not an elf... ;)


	29. Chapter 29 - Wayward

**#29 Wayward**

"Eldarion!"

The name reverberated through the palace corridors, quickly followed by the child himself as he sped away from the scene of his latest mishap.

"Come back here!"

The boy halted briefly, obedience vying with fear, and for a moment he almost turned back until he recalled the scene of devastation so lately left behind and his feet resumed their headlong run.

Why was he afflicted this way? Neither of his parents had the same problem, in fact both were the complete opposite. Graceful and dignified, they comported themselves with the utmost care and elegance at all times, as a King and Queen should but he, he could not even walk into a room without knocking something over and making a mess.

Finally reaching the side door that led into the gardens he bolted through, his feet skimming lightly over the gravel path towards the one place he felt comfortable lately. Reaching his destination he threw himself to his knees and heedless of the leaf mould and small insects, pushed his way between the branches of the large, woody shrub to settle, cocooned within its snug interior, shut off from the world and all its fragile obstacles. A small sob escaped his lips as he pulled his knees in tightly to his chest, encircling legs grown gangly and wayward with arms that appeared lately to have a mind of their own.

"Eldarion?"

He knew it would be his father that found him.

"May I come in ion nin?"

The child sniffed softly, dashing the moisture from his eyes with slender fingers. There would be no escape, his father would sit out there all night if needs be.

"I…yes ada."

No sooner had he uttered the soft words than there was a wild rustling of leaves followed by a mild expletive before the tall, rangy figure of his father pushed himself into the now cramped space beside him.

"A cosy spot, ion nin." Eldarion could hear the smile in his father's voice although he could not bring himself to look at his face.

"I can see the appeal." A gentle hand reached out, pulled a leaf from its nest within his son's hair and twirled it within his fingers.

Silence settled around them and for a moment Eldarion hoped that the inevitable would not happen.

"Why?"

The single word shattered the child's wish even though he knew it had been in vain.

"I don't know ada." Such a small voice that Aragorn had to lean closer to hear.

"You must have had some reason Eldarion." The king's voice was calm and cool. "What on Arda were you thinking?"

"I…I don't…"

"Don't try to tell me you don't know young man."

Eldarion felt his chin lifted and his eyes finally met those of his father.

"I…I just wanted to see if I could…if I could…" his voice petered out as shame and dismay filled his heart. "I never meant to…"

"You never do." Aragorn smiled gently.

"I know it is hard ion, but when I or your Mother tells you not to touch something, it is for a good reason." His eyes twinkled merrily.

"I was just the same at your age you know." Eldarion stared in disbelief.

"I too could not wait to be a warrior. " Aragorn paused for a moment to collect his thoughts.

"Only 'twas not a bow I longed to wield but a sword and it was not a shelf of mementoes and plants I demolished but a beautiful and ancient tapestry."

Silence fell between the pair once more as this piece of information conjured a picture in each of their minds.

"I'm sorry Ada." Eldarion spoke up at last. "The bow was too long and I just overbalanced and it caught the shelf and everything just fell and there was soil and pottery and stuff everywhere and…" he paused to take a breath. Then swallowed nervously.

"Is he very cross ada?"

"Legolas?" Aragorn smiled indulgently. "Well, he did not sound too pleased when last I heard him."

"As you would not be if you came back to your rooms to find that a small whirlwind had descended upon its contents."

Eldarion gasped as the disembodied lyrical voice filtered through the bush.

"Nay, I was not pleased Aragorn," the voice continued. "But I was more displeased when the culprit chose to run away instead of facing up to his actions."

"I…I'm sorry Legolas." The child's voice trembled with emotion. "I did not mean to make a mess. I… I just. I was scared you were angry and I wouldn't blame you. I'm just so…"

"Oh child," the elf interjected sadly. "We have all done this kind of thing at some stage in our growing up. There is nothing to be feared about what is purely natural." He paused then continued lightly. "I remember your father was just as clumsy as you at your age, if not more so." He chuckled. "Has he ever told you of the time he killed your grandfather's favourite tapestry with Elladan's sword?"

"A little." Eldarion answered as his father huffed out a sigh.

"Well, if you like I could tell you how it came about." Legolas grinned.

"And I can tell you how the lithe and graceful elven prince tripped over his own feet and fell from the great oak." Aragorn countered with a triumphant snigger.

"That was not my fault!"

Father and son caught each other's eyes and broke out into laughter at the indignant yell before scrambling out from their leafy nest.

Standing between the two adults, a warm hand from each resting upon his shoulders, suddenly life did not seem so terrible at all to the young prince and as they walked back towards the palace he listened to the gentle, teasing banter going on over his head and realised that however clumsy or ungainly he might be he was very lucky to be surrounded by such love.

* * *

 **A/N**

I realise that this is, in fact too long for a proper drabble but it just sort of happened that way and I couldn't stop it!

Hope you like it anyway. (You can of course always let me know one way or another) *winks*

Lord Illryen - Glad you liked the trick Legolas played in the last chapter. Thanks. :)

Thanks to you all for reading.


	30. Chapter 30 - Crossing The Line

**#30 Crossing The Line**

This was it. One step further and he would never be the same. He turned his head to stare back the way he had come a pang of regret fliting through his mind before taking a deep breath, settling his pack firmly on his shoulders, facing front and lifting his right foot over an imaginary line.

It was time to discover who he really was, a grim smile played over still youthful lips as he walked. Behind lay childhood, games and innocence. Before lay, he knew not what, but it was time he grew up and tried to make sense of Master Elrond's words. A stone flew down the path as he kicked out savagely. Even his name was a lie. Albeit one told in the best of faith. To keep him safe. He sighed and allowed the anger to dissipate. Aragorn. He rolled the name around in his mind. It felt strange and sort of old. Aragorn. He shrugged, ah well. He would just have to get used to it. Picking up the pace he began to scan the scenery. Imladris was behind, his future lay somewhere in front and he planned on meeting it head on.

* * *

 **A/N**

Thanks for reading and especially for those who have sent me such lovely comments. They really do make a difference :) Hint hint *winks*

Lord Illyren - Warm and happy is good. Thanks. I had Eldarion at that pre-pubescent age where kids are growing at an alarming rate and don't seem to be able to control their limbs properly. Just at that clumsy stage in life. :)


	31. Chapter 31 - Leaf

**#31 Leaf**

Aragorn clutched the small item hard enough to feel its outline within his palm as he ran like a man possessed. Determination emanated from his limber form as he moved, long strides eating up the ground as the name he had been given long ago paid tribute to. He would not stop. So much failure could be laid at his door already upon this quest, he could not bear for this to be the latest. Sparing no thought to the pair behind him his mind could only bend to those before and the hope that they were still alive, the hope kept aflame in his heart by the intricate leaf shaped clasp once worn upon a young hobbits cloak but now cutting into his hand.

* * *

 **A/N**

I think this must be the shortest one I have managed yet!

Thanks for reading and special thanks if you reviewed.

Lord Illyren - When I wrote the last one I had in mind Aragorn when he left the safety of Imladris for the first time to seek out and find his place amongst the Dunedain. Long years before the quest set off but it could work that way too.


	32. Chapter 32 - Painting

**#32 Painting**

The huge portrait loomed over the single human occupant of the grand stateroom, staring out over the young man's tilted head in haughty remoteness. Tracing the form and features with wishful eyes Faramir sighed.

"I wish you could have known him father." He whispered, half to himself as if afraid the portrait would hear. "There is none other I would have as my King."

Silence met his words and for a moment he could almost swear the portrait raised its eyebrows in mute question, daring him to continue and the flood gates opened.

"You told me once that Gondor had no need of a king, that _we_ were her kings in all but name and none could tell the difference. Yet there is a difference father, although I never really saw it before. A steward looks after the realm, keeps it running, maintains the balance. A king. A king _is_ the realm, feels it deep within, knows it, loves it, lives it."

He paused then took a step back and lowered his eyes, so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he failed to see the tall, agile, slight figure standing in the shadow of a tall marble pillar.

"He is all that and more. Oh, I know he may look rough and worn. A ragged ranger, used to a life spent sleeping out under the stars, eating only what can be foraged or caught and dogged by constant danger around every turn, but when you look beneath… If you look beneath."

Faramir raised his eyes to stare through the picture and into the distance.

"Then you can see, really see. He is noble and kind, with a selfless will that bends to aid even the lowest, most mean of people. I swear, his enemies he would heal and turn from darkness if he could."

The silent watcher smiled softly at these words and released his inner tension knowing at last that Aragorn had been right to trust in this man.

"Gondor will thrive now with him at its helm." Faramir continued wistfully. "Although I could wish you here to see it. "

Falling silent he turned to stare up at the painting once more, oblivious to the soft sibilant whisper that left the watchers lips in reply.

"Gondor will thrive indeed."

* * *

 **A/N**

Thanks for reading and to all my wonderful reviewers. :)

Lord Ilyren - Thanks. I'm glad you liked the description in the last one, even if it was short. They are supposed to be drabbles after all!


	33. Chapter 33 - Dreams and Fantasies

**#33 Dreams and Fantasies**

Legolas shivered and wrapped his arms around his body in an effort to keep warm whilst wondering just why his body felt as if it were covered in ice.

He was an elf.

He should not feel the cold.

Looking up to the sky he watched, mesmerised as bright red flakes of snow swirled and danced their way down from pillows of clouds, plump and fluffy in the glow of the setting sun. Their frantic yet graceful movements reminding him of silvans cavorting at a yule festival in the Greenwood.

He shivered again and once more his mind wondered at the uncharacteristic movement as he hugged himself tighter, lowering his gaze to the ground beneath him as he pondered the strange fact.

It was soon joined by another.

He seemed to have sat himself down in a shallow pool coloured as crimson as the falling snow, which felt strangely warm and sticky to the touch.

"Lad ye!"

The faint growl of a voice accompanied his next shiver and he frowned, tilting his head in an effort to interpret the sound.

"Don…a…leaf…mah!"

The elf shook his head as the voice became more insistent yet no more distinct. What was this strange language? It made no sense whatsoever. Brushing the sounds off as naught but a fantasy created by an over tired mind, he went back to contemplating the intricate patterns woven by the pirouetting snowflakes. Beautiful…simply beautiful…

* * *

 **A/N**

Sorry it has taken me so long to update but I just lost all faith in myself as a writer for a while and although I am still struggling I am trying to get back to at least finishing what I have started.

Thanks for reading.


	34. Chapter 34 - A Book

**#34 A Book**

"Then the dragon turned its head and for a moment the prince thought all was lost as it pierced him with its steely gaze and he stood, frozen to the spot. There was a blur of movement to his left as a voice shouted out a warning then something hard barrelled into him, knocking him off his feet, just as he felt the blistering heat from a wave of fire wash over his face and he fell to the rocky ground in a lifeless tangle of limbs."

There was a sharp intake of breath as the small figure beside him nestled closer and Thranduil looked down into a pair of bright green eyes grown as huge as water lily leaves.

"Shall I stop Ion nin?" He asked gently, smiling down in anticipation of the answer.

"Nay! Nay! Do not stop now ada." The elfling beside him protested. "You always want to stop here."

"But it is past time you were asleep and you know how the story ends tithen pen." Thranduil attempted a stern expression, knowing full well that he would be the one to give in.

"But how can I be sure it is the same ending if you don't finish the story." His small son pleaded. "It might change." He continued before his father could interrupt. "The dragon might gobble him up, or a nasty goblin might come and take him away to be a slave or…"

"Legolas, Legolas," the king finally managed to cut in. "I think you have too much imagination than is good for a young elfling." He smiled indulgently. " Alright, I will finish the story but you must promise me to go straight to sleep once it is done."

"Yes ada, I will." The youngster beamed up at his beloved father and nodded. "I promise."

"Very well then." Thranduil smiled back before looking down at the book held loosely in his hand and taking up the tale once more.

"Long it was until the Prince awoke, so long that the King and Queen had feared he may ever stay trapped between the worlds, half in this and half in the next but awake he did and…"

* * *

 **A/N**

Hopefully this one is a little more straightforward than the last. ;)

Thanks for reading.


	35. Chapter 35 - Lets Pay A Game

**#35 Lets Play A Game**

I feel the hatred burning deep within my chest as I gaze across the gloomy cavern at my sworn enemy and a growl rises unbidden to my throat. Steely eyes burn into mine and my fingers itch with the need to close them for good. I am the first to look away lest need overcome instruction and I succumb to the beast lurking so close to my surface, too close some would say.

A shape moves to block what small amount of light there is seeping through the slit like entrance to our hidden hideaway then slips inside and shuffles over the rocky ground to where I stand on guard, resolving as it nears into the well known figure of my captain. A comforting weight descends onto my shoulder as he grasps me and pulls me close to whisper in my ear and I feel a smile begin. He grins in return and nods over to the other side of the room in affirmation.

Anticipation rises within me like a burning brand as I move toward the warped creature I so despise, his pallid, skinny form belying the strength hidden within. Not that I think he is any match for me of course. I stand looking down at him, savouring the moment, hoping he will cower and flinch but knowing he will not. This one is proud, even in his captivity he holds his head high, refuses to despair, but I will see him break. I will see him fall. This why I am here after all. They all give in to me in the end.

I reach out and grasp a handful of long, golden hair, wrapping it around my fist to pull, drawing his head backwards between arms outstretched and bound apart by chains hammered into the jagged roof. His eyes still challenge mine, foolish princeling! I grin and bare my teeth, lean down and whisper into his pointed, shell like ear.

"Now, woodland sprite. Let's play a little game."

…and the fun begins...

* * *

 **A/N**

Sorry, this one just wrote itself. Let me know what you think :)


	36. Chapter 36 - Sunrise

**#36 Sunrise**

Minas Tirith lay before him bathed in light. The white city aglow with red and orange hues as if lit by a myriad fires. It was beautiful.

Aragorn's heart swelled with pride as he gazed upon the city he was born to rule. Here he stood on the field before it's gates, no longer garbed in the clothes he had worn throughout the quest, a ranger careworn and bruised by war and strife but now a Great Lord clad in black and silver mail. From his shoulders draped a long mantle of purest white, clasped at the throat by a large green gem that shone bright enough for an eagle flying high above the clouds to see, but even brighter still was the star that dangled upon his forehead from a slender mithril chain.

He swallowed thickly, emotion threatening to overwhelm him as he was joined by first Eomer, then Imrahil and lastly Gandalf who smiled upon him as a kindly uncle would a beloved nephew.

"It is time."

With the wizards softly spoken words Aragorn began to walk slowly towards the gates, head held high, resembling the high kings of old, all self-doubt finally laid to rest. This was the culmination of a long life's work, here now came his chance for love and peace and his heart began to lighten with every step. The trio of friends came with him, a pace behind, and behind them came the remainder of the host of knights and soldiers who had fought at the battle of Pelennor and beyond, with Gimli and Legolas smiling widely at the fore.

A single trumpet sounded out from the city as the gates opened wide to reveal Faramir standing waiting with four tall city guards and silence fell as they walked out to meet the approaching lords. For a moment the two men stood, gazing at each other with love and pride before Faramir knelt to offer his resignation and the white rod of office.

"Nay, your office is not ended." Aragorn spoke as he stooped to place a hand on Faramir's shoulder.

"Rise Steward, for that post will be yours, and your heir's for as long as my line continues."

Then as the people of the city watched he pulled the younger man to his feet and embraced him heartily before turning his attention once more to the city.

"Now Steward." He ordered with a smile. "Do your office."

Then, as the sun rose over the white city, Faramir son of Denethor, Steward of Gondor, announced the return of the King and a huge cheer rent the air.

.

.

" _And there in the midst of the fields they set up their pavilions and awaited the morning; for it was the Eve of May, and the King would enter his gates_ _with the rising of the Sun."_ Lord of the Rings part three: Return of the King vol. 3 ch 4 The Field of Cormallen

* * *

 **A/N**

I know I have taken some liberties with the dialogue here but I do hope you can forgive me. I have kept to the meaning if not the exact wording in the book.

Hope you liked it.


	37. Chapter 37 - Clouds

**#37 Clouds**

"Horses," Pippin said as he nudged Merry in the ribs. "A herd of wild horses Merry. Look at the way their tails are streaming out behind them."

"Ye..s," Merry replied reluctantly. "I can see the streaming bit Pip, but they look more like cows to me."

"Cows!" Pippin spluttered as he rolled over to look at his friend. "Cows! They are most definitely horses, of the highest, purest breeding. Like…" He paused to think. "Like the ones Master Elrond's boys rode."

A high tinkling laugh came at this pronouncement and both hobbits smiled as Legolas' face hove into view above their heads.

"Elrond's boys!" He exclaimed, smiling broadly. "I would love to see their faces if they could hear you call them that."

"Well, they are his boy's aren't they." Pippin replied as he sat up, all thoughts of clouds and the shapes they form flittering from his mind like a butterfly moving to a new flower.

"Even if they look stern and unfriendly." He continued under his breath.

"Aye," Agreed the elven prince slowly as he squatted down beside the small pair. "Although it is long since they thought of themselves so." He continued. "And stern they may be young Pippin, but unfriendly." He smiled in remembrance. "Nay, that they have never been."

Reaching out to ruffle Pippins hair Legolas regained his feet.

"Unless you were an orc of course," the elf grinned. "Then they would be most unfriendly."

With another tinkle of laughter Legolas moved away towards where Aragorn stood on guard, watching the horizon carefully.

"I don't care what he says." Pippin flopped back down into the grass. "They didn't look friendly to me."

"Nor to me Pip." Merry replied moving to rejoin his friend. "Hey, look!" He pointed upwards to where another clump of white hung in the otherwise clear blue sky. "A sheep with no legs!"

The pair dissolved into fits of giggles and Legolas smiled to himself as he neared the ranger. At least some innocence still remained in this world.

* * *

 **A/N**

Thanks for the lovely comments so far. They are very much appreciated and have helped keep me motivated to continue. You are all so very kind.


	38. Chapter 38 - Sunset

**#38 Sunset**

Watching the sun's rays change colour from yellow, through orange, to deepest red as it drifted lower and lower down towards the tops of the trees Legolas leaned back into the firm body of the elf behind him, feeling comfortable and secure in the arms encircling his slender frame.

"It is beautiful, Ada." He breathed, almost afraid that his voice would break the spellbinding sight before him. "Hannon-Le."

"'tis beautiful indeed, tithen pen." Thranduil's breath tickled over the top of Legolas' ear as he whispered back. "I knew you would like it."

The leaves rustled around them as if in agreement and the royal pair smiled, savouring their moment of closeness.

It had taken moments only to climb up into the canopy, moments that Thranduil had determined to make time for out of his busy schedules to share this sight with his beloved son and now they were here, high above the Greenwood his heart filled with joy at seeing the awe in the elflings face.

"Aie!"

The sun finally dipped to touch the trees and for a moment it seemed the forest was set ablaze and the young prince exclaimed at the sight.

"Look Legolas, watch." The king smiled softly. "Annun or Eryn Galen."

As the pair reclined in harmony, their eyes fixed on the sight before them the fiery light began to die and gradually, one by one, as the sun disappeared stars began to glow like tiny embers in the darkening sky.

(Annun or Eryn Galen = Sunset over Greenwood the Great)

* * *

 **A/N**

Ok, so I know its more fluff, but can you blame me. I just love these two so much.

Thanks to you all for reading an especially to those of you who have left such lovely comments. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you. :)


	39. Chapter 39 - Ship

**#39 Ship**

Oh see how the waters break over her bough,

And wind fills her sails as the valar allow

her to speed like an arrow, straight, onward and true.

To carry me swiftly to peace, and to you.

.

I have longed for this moment since first I did spy,

On the way to the ships, flying high in the sky

those gulls that awoke the sea longing in me.

With their wailing they stole my peace under the trees.

.

I have held on as long as I could in this world,

But our time, it is over, new flags are unfurled

for the men who come after to carry aloft.

So I leave, with a tear for all that has been lost.

.

She is proud and so beauteous this grey ship of mine,

And my heart sings to think it will soon be with thine

as we sail ever west o'er the white, flying foam.

She will bring me at last to our fair elvenhome.

.

* * *

 **A/N**

It's so long since I wrote any poetry and I am a bit rusty so I have been rather unsure if I should post this or scrap it. Anyway, in the end I thought I might as well put it out here and see what you all think.


	40. Chapter 40 - Down The River

**#40 Down The River**

Their eyes fixed upon the two small 'boats' bobbing along in the rushing water the two brothers raced alongside each willing their own on. A perfect day saw the sun shining down from a clear blue sky and their boyish laughter rang out in peals as they ran side by side down the bank of the river, absorbed in their game and oblivious to the hidden guards ensuring their safety as they played. Denethor would take no chances with the lives of his young sons.

Boromir grinned as his small craft, a pair of twigs with a leaf sail, swiftly gathered pace as it swung around a bend in the river, catching the current and riding the small white tipped waves with ease.

"Mines the fastest Fara'" He piped, hopping excitedly along. "Told you the widest leaf would catch the wind better."

"But mine is catching up. Look!"

Faramir jumped up and down excitedly as his small craft bobbed along in the others wake, then cried out in dismay as a low branch suddenly bobbed in the breeze catching the tip of his boats 'mast' and turning it into the muddy bank.

"Oh no!"

Boromir's exclamation stopped his brother in his tracks as Faramir reached the beached vessel he had intended to refloat, causing him to look up to see his sibling staring wide eyed and anxious downstream. Following the elder boys gaze he was just in time to see Boromir's little leaf boat sucked into a swirl of white water before disappearing over the edge of a small cascade.

"No!" Boromir exclaimed again and both boys began to run along on the bank beside the churning water hoping against hope that the craft had survived but seeing no sign. Eventually, as the river widened out and calmed one more they slowed and Boromir sighed sadly.

"That was the best one I ever made too." He muttered, kicking at a pebble on the bank.

"You can have mine if you like." Faramir smiled gently, his generous heart hating to see his big brother upset.

"No, it's alright Fara." Boromir replied with a grin of his own and the typical sudden shift in a child's fancy as he bent to pick up a long, straight stick. "I'm bored of sailing. Let's play soldiers now instead."

As he swung the pretend sword about in front of him, trying to imitate the movements he had watched the guards make whilst sparring he laughed and headed back along the river bank towards the city, beheading wild flowers as he went.

A slight movement in the water caught Faramir's eye and he turned to see a leaf, punctured in two places as if it had been used to make a mast for a small boat twirling past. A cold shiver ran up his spine and for a moment he thought he heard the sound of an elven lament carried upon the breeze before his brothers voice rang out again, the spell was broken and with a shake of the head he rushed off in answer to Boromir's call.

* * *

 **A/N**

Thanks for reading.

To Demetria (Guest) I would like to say how much I really appreciate your lovely comments and I hope you continue to enjoy these drabbles.


	41. Chapter 41 - Fell Beasts

**#41 Fell Creatures**

Legolas crept along the corridor on silent feet, his heart thudding within his chest. How had it come to this? His home invaded, the very halls of the King overrun with fell beasts. He paused as he came to a corner, flattening himself against the cool wall and steeling himself to peer around into the darkness beyond. His luck was in. The way was clear and with a muffled sigh of relief he moved on, senses stretched for the slightest intimation that he was not alone.

Inching along he gradually became aware of the rising sound of angry voices ahead, picking out his father's strident tones with such relief his knees almost buckled beneath him. His father still lived! He should have known it would take more than a few wild orcs to harm one so powerful and clever as he. Gritting his teeth he stole closer, drawing his blades as he realised the sounds were coming from the throne room just ahead. If he could just get into the room unseen by the enemies now almost howling in anger he could join forces with his father and none would be able to stand against them.

Darting through the open doorway and into the shadow of a tall, carven pillar he looked to where the king stood before the throne, crimson robes swirled about him, autumn crown held high upon his regal head and his heart swelled with pride. This glorious elf was his own father. To see him thus, regaled by enemies on every side yet standing tall and proud before them was a sight to behold. For a moment he paused. Drinking in the sight, then, before he could change his mind, he made his move. Copying the loud battle cry of the warriors out in the forest he raised his weapons and charged straight towards the hoard now closing in upon the King.

Silence fell as with one accord the room's occupants turned to face him then moved apart, leaving a corridor at the end of which stood a very stern, cross looking Thranduil and he skidded to a halt dropping his arms so his makeshift weapons hung loosely at his sides. A small snicker of smothered laughter drifted down from the balcony above and he gulped as he suddenly realised that this might not have been such a good idea as the twins had suggested.

"Legolas!" His father thundered. "How many times have I told you not to interrupt council meetings!"

* * *

 **A/N**

Hope this wasn't too trite :)

ShadowTravel - yup, can't believe I've managed forty one now! Thanks for the comments. I'm glad you enjoyed the moment between young Boromir and Faramir.


	42. Chapter 42 - Anatomy

**#42 Anatomy**

"The heart", mused Legolas. "An organ essential to life yet so impossible to understand."

The elf stood in the gallery high above the great ballroom curiously watching those enjoying the celebrations below.

"How is it Gimli, that such a small thing can hold a grown man to ransom?"

The dwarf moved forwards, knowing his attempt at stealth had been futile, to also peer down into the throng following where Legolas' gaze led.

"Ah, Laddie." He replied gruffly, watching the newlywed King and Queen waltz gracefully around the dance floor oblivious to all else around them. "Its secrets are not given up lightly."

"How does one do it Gimli?" Legolas turned with a sigh. "Allow a heart to thaw after so long in the cold and the dark? After so many years spent at war. How can one dare to trust it to another's keeping after that?"

The pain and confusion within the gaze he turned upon the dwarf then made him seem so very young and vulnerable that Gimli's own heart felt it would break.

"With time, laddie." Came the gentle reply. "With time."

And reaching out a stone roughened hand he lightly brushed the elf's slender fingers with his own.

* * *

 **A/N**

It was ages before I could think of anything at all for this prompt and then last night this little scene just popped into my head. Don't ask me why!

Thanks to all of you who are still reading and especially to those who have taken the time to comment. I really do appreciate it. :)


	43. Chapter 43 - Tears

**#43 Tears**

The dawn had broken to reveal another beautiful day, as was to be expected really and Gimli yawned then stretched, marvelling as he did every morning at the strength of sinew and muscle still contained in his compact frame.

How long had it been now? He was not entirely sure. The days seemed to flow effortlessly from one to another and it was long since he had had to mark the passing of time. He lay still for a moment, relishing the peace and quiet before pushing back the covers and swinging himself out of bed to prepare for another day working in his forge. How strange it was that amongst all these master craftsmen his work should be coveted above all. Strange, but eminently enjoyable, he dared a slightly smug smile as he padded over to the washroom and soon a gruff voice could be heard extolling the virtues of molten metal over the splash of tumbling water.

Seated in his favourite position atop a huge oak tree in the garden the elf heard the dwarf's musical mangling and smiled wryly to himself as he remembered how set against the idea of accompanying him Gimli had been when first he had voiced it. How many long days of argument and wrangling it had been before he would even discuss the possibility and how many tears it had subsequently taken to wear him down. Of course, it would never do to tell him just how easy it was for an elf to cry and he would never admit to anyone else that, in fact, in the end, the tears were actually real, but then they had done the trick and that was all that mattered wasn't it. Leaning back against the rough bark he closed his eyes and let the morning get on with dawning around him.

It was going to be another beautiful day in Valinor.


	44. Chapter 44 - Wounds

**#44 Wounds**

Closing his eyes he steeled his mind for the sharp pierce of flesh seconds before the needle entered his inflamed skin. It hurt. Although to look at his face no one would never have believed so. Berating himself for allowing the blade to penetrate his defences, time passed whilst his friend stitched until the next he knew Aragorn was leaning down to bite off the last knotted thread.

"You were lucky this time, Mellon nin." The ranger sat back, pale and tired. "An inch to the left and I would not be wasting my thread."

"It is nothing, Estel." Legolas shrugged then winced before continuing. "A mere scratch only, do not fret so."

"I would not need to fret if you took more care Legolas," the ranger replied with a sigh as he carefully washed away the blood and examined his handiwork. "That should heal nicely."

Legolas raised an elegant eyebrow at this last retort, of course it would heal, he was an elf.

Watching his friend clean and re pack his equipment away he could not help but give a sigh of contentment though. It was nice to be fussed over sometimes, even though it was by an unkempt ranger from the north. He smiled, leaning back against the tall beech he had fallen against at the end of the short skirmish which had almost ended so badly and allowed his eyes to glaze, safe in the knowledge that his friend was there to make sure he came to no further harm as he drifted into reverie whilst his body began its journey back to health.

* * *

 **A/N**

Just consider this an outtake from a random fight at sometime in the youth of their friendship. Hope it works. :)


	45. Chapter 45 - Valinor

**#45 Valinor**

"Sam."

"Yes, Master Frodo."

"I think I am ready to go in now."

"Right you are then, Just let me wipe the soil off my fingers and I'll be with you."

"I can manage Sam, I don't want to take you away from your plants."

"They can keep Master Frodo. Up you come now."

"Thank you Sam." I'll be fine now I'm up on my feet."

"Well, now I've stopped I might as well just walk alongside you. Make sure you get settled indoors like."

"Oh, Sam. You really do spoil me you know."

"'Taint no more than you deserve Master Frodo. Not after all you went through with that blasted ring an' all."

"That was all so long ago now Sam and if anyone deserves spoiling after all we went through it is you. If it hadn't been for you I would never have made it through to the end."

"Nay sir. I was just along for the ride, so to speak. It was you carried the beastly thing, with its nasty whispering and darkness. You who destroyed it in the mountain."

"But without Gollum I fear I would have failed, he…"

"No! Not another word Master Frodo. You destroyed that cursed thing and there's an end to it. I won't have anyone say otherwise…"

"But I…"

"Not even you, Master Frodo. Not even you."

"Oh Sam."

"Now. Which will it be? The chair beside the fire? Or do you want to write a little more in your journal?"

"The desk I think Sam. But not the journal. I think I need to write a couple of letters this evening."

"The desk it is then. Here we go. Just let me pull out this chair. There."

"Thank you Sam."

"How about I put the kettle on and make a nice cup of tea while you make a start."

"That would be lovely Sam. If you could just take the top off that inkwell for me. Thank you."

"Hmmm."

 _'My Dearest Sam._

 _I know I have not got long now. The ache in my shoulder grows more painful day by day and even though I am here in Valinor where the light of the elder has soothed my troubled heart, it can not take away the fact that I am mortal and soon must depart this world forever. I urge you not to grieve too much. You have many more years left in which to enjoy this blessed realm I am sure and I would fain have you do so._

 _You who have done so much for others, who have been there for me through all our long travails deserve peace at last and although I will not be here to enjoy it with you for much longer, know that you will always be there in my heart and hopefully one day we may meet again._

 _I have written to Legolas and Gimli and asked that they come as I fear you will need them in the end. They shall be your rock as you have been mine over the years. Steadfast and true, no better friend could I have wished for, no greater love could I have found. I only wish I did not have to leave you so soon but you shall not be alone._

 _Know that at long last I am at peace and be glad for me Samwise._

 _Until we meet again_

 _Your_

 _Frodo'_

* * *

 ** _A/N_**

So, I wanted to see if I could write a short one using nothing but speech and although I suppose the letter at the end could be seen as cheating it is still in Frodo's words. The big question is... Did it work? It will be interesting to see what you think.


	46. Chapter 46 - Justice

**#46 Justice**

Legolas leaned back against the cold, unforgiving stone behind him wishing fervently he was back in his beloved forest. This dark, unfeeling place held no fear for him, yet it drained his spirit to be so cut off from the pulse of life he was accustomed to feel surrounding him. Down here nothing grew, no speck of green had he seen and his heart mourned its loss. It was as if life had ceased and he knew that he would be able to take no ease until they were back outside where his own song could fly and mingle with that of the world once more.

He turned his head slightly, listening to the soft conversation passing between Frodo and Mithrandir a wry smile tracing itself upon his lips at the wizards words for he had heard them before, many years ago.

His mind wandered back in time until he was back in the courtyard of fair Imladris. The sun had not yet risen, rendering the two dark figures beside him almost invisible as they moved silently across the stone flags. As ever the twin sons of Elrond were eager to be back out on the hunt, their lust for revenge almost tangible in the air around them and though he could feel his own fëa crying out for peace he dare not let them go alone. For without him to call time on their questing, his sense of home and compassion to anchor them to the song he feared they would be lost forever, mired in slaughter and destruction until they fell to darkness or death and if that happened it would surely break his heart.

Their steps slowed as a pale figure appeared in the gloom before them, resolving slowly into the grey clad figure of an old man, bent and withered, yet they each knew this was merely a disguise behind which Mithrandir liked to hide his power.

"Elrondionath, Thranduilion." The wizard nodded curtly to each of the young ellon as he spoke. Eyes glinting with steel and disapproval.

"Mithrandir." The three replied in unison with an inclination of their heads.

"Off again so soon, younglings." Mithrandir continued softly. "Master Elrond has barely had time to patch you up from your last foray. Will you not stay and ease his heart."

"Nay, Mithrandir." Elladan shook his head sadly. "There is much work for us yet to..."

"How can we stay here in this fantasy wrapped realm whilst those foul creatures are still at large." Elrohir broke in, anger sparking from steel grey eyes. "We will not rest until justice has been meted out to them all."

Legolas sighed and shifted position to avoid the rock digging into his shoulder blade, remembering the look of intense sadness he had seen on the wizards face as Elrohir spoke. It had been then that Mithrandir had uttered those self-same words he had just used to the Halfling.

 _"Many that live deserve death. And some die that deserve life. Can you give that to them? Then be not too eager to deal out death in the name of justice, fearing for your own safety. Even the wise cannot see all ends."_

It had been during that quest, only a few days after he had followed the twins as they pushed past the old man leaving him alone in the courtyard that it had all gone so horribly wrong. He could still feel the heat of the blade, smell the blood and taste the fear as he had got too close for the bloodlust in his lovers eyes to tell friend from foe. Too close to avoid the blade swung in anger even though he managed to twist just enough to ensure it was not the killing blow it was meant to be.

A shudder ran through him with the memory and as he looked over to where Mithrandir now sat alone the wizard's eyes caught his, twinkling in the light of his pipe and they shared a soft smile.

.

 _"Many that live deserve death. And some die that deserve life. Can you give that to them? Then be not too eager to deal out death in the name of justice, fearing for your own safety. Even the wise cannot see all ends." ―_ _ **J.R.R. Tolkien, The Two Towers.**_

* * *

 **A/N**

So this is not at all the story I had intended to write but it sort of ties back to an earlier chapter in the series. I feel that the whole tale will have to come out eventually. Let me know what you think :)


	47. Chapter 47 - The Nature Of Evil

"Why are orcs so nasty ada?"

Thranduil looked down into the wide, innocent eyes of his young son and wished with all his heart he had never allowed him into the library. Legolas had an unerring knack of finding those books containing the goriest stories, usually containing graphic descriptions of battles fought in ages past.

"They are just made that way I suppose, ion nin." He moved to close the tome lying on the aged wooden desk before the child in the vain hope that out of sight meant out of mind.

"I do believe it is time for your mid-morning meal." He continued briskly.

"But if they were made that way," Legolas said thoughtfully, placing his hands firmly upon the open pages, undeterred by his father's attempt to change the subject.

"Who made them, and why did they make them so mean?"

Thranduil sighed knowing that his inquisitive son was not going to be satisfied until he had an answer and a plausible one at that.

"Well," he began slowly, in the hope that either inspiration would strike or some emergency would call him away.

"There are many different tales that speak of the beginning of the orcs," he continued with a silent plea to the Valar. Surely his child was yet too innocent and young to hear of the way that creatures of light and beauty had been corrupted and twisted into such foul servants of evil.

A long forgotten memory then stirred within the king's mind and suddenly he knew the answer he should give.

"I remember my grandfather telling me that they were fashioned from mud and slime aeons ago by a powerful sorcerer in order to become his slaves." He began…

* * *

 **A/N**

According to the oldest "theory" proposed by J.R.R. Tolkien (found in _The Fall of Gondolin_ , from _The Book Of Lost Tales._ Orcs were made of slime through the sorcery of Morgoth: "bred from the heats and slimes of the earth". However, it is consistently stated in his other writings, with regard to his creation myth, that only Eru can create new life from nothing. Therefore, by whatever means the orcs came into being, it is certain that either they were "descended" from other beings or a deliberate manifestation of Ilúvatar's thought.

I have decided to use this theory however here as in this drabble I see Legolas as a youngster equivalent to age 4 or 5 in our years and feel that Thranduil would not want to scare Legolas by using the more common theory of orcs originally being elves.

Hopefully this makes sense.

To Shadow (Guest) - Thanks for your lovely comments. If you want to check out Chapter 15 it will answer your question. :)


	48. Chapter 48 - Language Lesson

**#48 Language Lesson**

.

Night had fallen and the nine had finally settled down to rest in the ruins of what appeared to be an old barn after another gruelling days march. Aragorn was driving them hard and as Legolas looked over to where the smallest of their company lay, curled up side by side at the very back of the structure, he was surprised to see the glint of a pair of watchful eyes. Even more startling was the whisper that carried over to where he stood in the shadow of the doorway keeping watch.

"I thought he was a he Merry, not a she!"

"Of course he is Pip. What ever gave you the idea he was not?"

A slight frown crossed the elf's face as he listened and wondered briefly upon which poor unfortunate Pippin was talking about before shrugging it off as one of the young halflings usual inane chatterings and refocusing his thoughts on the job in hand.

"But Strider seems to think he is a she." Pippin's voice insinuated itself into his ears once more at the mention of his friends name.

"He's always calling him a girl," there was a slight pause and in Legolas' mind he could see the youngster's eyes widen.

"Oooh!" He suddenly exclaimed. "Or do you think he means he _acts_ like a girl?" There was a brief pause before he continued slowly. "I didn't think he would be as mean as that though, and I can't say I agree with him at all."

"Hush Pip!" Merry cut in with a glance over to where he thought the ranger lay sleeping. "I'm sure he doesn't think that at all. You're just being silly. Now go to sleep."

This last speech was followed by the soft rustling of his blanket as he turned over to face away from his friend.

"But Merry." Pippin was obviously not going to be ignored.

"You must have heard it too. The way he never uses his name, just calls him…Oh!"

There was another rustling noise as Pippin sat bolt upright.

"Ahh." He sighed as Merry turned back in consternation. "I see."

"What do you see?" Resignation filled his voice as the older hobbit succumbed to the inevitable.

"Polo and Theuderic!" Pippin replied in a scandalised whisper. "It's like Polo and Theuderic."

"Peregrine Took!" Merry Exclaimed loudly. "How can you possibly think…"

"But can't you see?" The youngster interrupted gleefully, certain of his accuracy. "That's it! That's why he never uses his name. That's why he always calls him lass!"

"Nay, pen neth."

There was a sharp intake of breath as the soft words were breathed into Pippins ear and he jumped in surprise.

"You are mistaken. That is indeed my name." The elf continued as he crouched beside the hobbit. "Or at least a part of it. 'though I will never understand the need for men to change that which has been bestowed by a parent, often after long and careful deliberation." He smiled ruefully.

"So do elven names have a meaning then?" Pippin piped up quickly following it by asking the meaning of Legolas' name after the elf nodded his head.

"My name means Green Leaf." The prince replied with a faraway look on his face. "My father named me after finding me with one such in the forest."

"But hobbits are named at birth." The young Halfling said slowly. "Do elves not have names as babies?"

"Of course they do." Legolas laughed. "I can see I will have to tell you the tale of my naming some day, but not today young Peregrine." He reached out to ruffle Pippins hair. "Suffice to say for now that my name is in two parts. Laeg meaning green and Lass meaning leaf."

Pippin smiled and looked over to where Aragorn was wrapped snugly in his bedroll.

"So Strider is calling you Leaf." The small hobbit said uncertainly.

"Yes, he is indeed." The elf fluidly unfolded from his crouch. **"** And I can assure you Pippin, I am most definitely male."

Legolas' tinkling laugh sounded out as he moved silently away, turning briefly to nod towards where another small figure lay nearby snoring loudly, with a final comment before continuing merrily back to his former position.

"Now Gimli, however. Who knows what form hides under all that hair and mail!"

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 **A/N** As ever I would like to say thanks for reading and for the lovely comments I have received so far.

To Shadow - Yes, children can be too curious at times can't they.! I'm glad you liked it.


	49. Chapter 49 - A Simple Delight

**#49 A Simple Delight**

As I stand here in the shadows and watch the moonbeams gently dance over the sleeping figure of my small son my heart feels as if it will burst with emotion. Never did I ever think that such a miracle would be granted to me as he.

He moves, tiny fingers twitch and peep out to grasp the edge of the soft blanket drawn up under his chin pushing it down in his reverie, allowing his small form freedom to wriggle under ithil's gentle caress.

This is what love feels like and I wish I could preserve this moment forever.

* * *

 **A/N**

Well. I managed a true drabble! 100 words exactly yayy!

For me this is Thranduil and baby Legolas but you might have other ideas...


	50. Chapter 50 - First Word

**#50 First Word**

Anor is high in the sky but my heart is heavy within my chest as my feet slowly pick their way through the charred and twisted forms of the trees I once played amongst in my childhood.

Gone are the proud, strong trunks and lofty boughs my adolescent self raced through with oft reckless abandon and settled within to entwine my own song with theirs and those of the stars above.

Pain grips my chest as my mind wanders back in time bringing memories of lighter, happier days and my steps falter in its intensity. I had not thought it to be this bad.

A sudden gust of wind brushes through my hair and with it brings a scent of spring, of new growth peeking up through loam, of rain soaked bark warmed by gentle sunlight and fresh, sweet niphredil.

Hope kindles within and as I raise my eyes from the remnants of a great oak they meet with those I have longed to see for what feels like an age. I taste the salt that lingers upon my tongue from tears there is no need to hide and suddenly find myself running, time winding back as I speed over the cracked and blackened earth, becoming again the child who needs comfort from the strong, solid form of he whom I love above all others and feared I should never see again.

"Ada!" I sob as he enfolds me within his warm embrace and for now this is enough.

* * *

 **A/N**

This prompt really had me at a loss for ages until I found myself thinking about how Legolas would feel on his return to Mirkwood after the war of the ring and what would be the first word he said to his father. After many false starts and flowery speeches I finally decided that simplicity fitted best and so this little piece finally came together. I hope it works.

Many thanks for reading.


	51. Chapter 51 - On The Brink

**#51 On the Brink**

The sudden silence was even more unnerving than the clamour that had so shortly rent the air as the huge army of orcs amassed and Aragorn felt he could have cut the tension now pressing around him with a knife.

Men stood grim and stoic all along the high walls of Helm's Deep, bows and nerves strung tight enough to snap under the strain of a too long wait yet still he bid them hold.

A low whisper from his left had him turn his head to look straight into a pair of twinkling eyes whose hue seemed to change and darken as they caught him in their gaze and once again the fey nature of this silvan he called friend struck him when he realised they sparkled in anticipation of the battle to come.

"An auth, Aragorn. We should wait no more."

The elf smiled and suddenly turned, loosing an arrow to arc through the sky before falling to land perfectly centred in the gnarled forehead of a large goblin who had been grinning up at them from far below.

"One!" Legolas cried joyfully with an impudent grin at the dwarf standing beside him and noise flooded back into the world as battle commenced.

* * *

 **A/N**

An auth (Sindarin) = To battle

So I have taken the liberty of having Legolas 'jump the gun' and fire the first shot here but I rather liked the idea of an impatient wood elf wanting to get on with it!

Thanks to those of you who have read and taken the time to comment so far. I really do appreciate your support and encouragement and hope I have managed to reply to all those of you who were signed in.

To the guest who commented on the last drabble (First Word) and who I haven't therefore been able to thank personally I do now. Your comment was so lovely and most welcome. I am very glad you enjoyed it and hope you find more to your liking along the way.

Thanks again to you all for reading.

Nyx.


	52. Chapter 52 - Learning

**#52 Learning**

Tears streamed from eyes wide with horror and grief as the young warrior stood amidst the carnage of recent battle his body trembling uncontrollably whilst the adrenaline that had been racing through his veins disappeared with the threat that had brought it to life.

"Come penneth, it gets easier with time."

Legolas felt the spreading warmth of comfort as a hand rested firmly upon his shoulder and turned sadly to meet the compassionate gaze of his captain.

"How?" His voice quavered. "How do you stop your heart from breaking?"

"By remembering why we do this," the dark haired captain replied firmly with a squeeze of his hand. "By keeping the memory of those we have lost to the dark in our minds and thinking of those we love and their protection."

Dropping his eyes once more to the gore splattered ground at his feet the young elf nodded slowly and sighed as a dull ache settled within his chest.

"I do not know if it will be enough." He whispered sadly. "But I will try."

* * *

 **A/N**

So... ?

I'm not sure if the guest calling themselves ShadowTravel will read this but if you do I want to say thanks for your comment on Ghosts Within, it was much appreciated. :)


	53. Chapter 53 - Hatred

*****Warning for implied slash in this chapter - don't like, don't read*****

 **.**

 **#53 Hatred**

Standing high above the valley, Legolas gazed down upon the toy like house beneath him and examined the feelings of reluctance and pain that wove their way around his heart.

It had not always been like this.

Once he would have raced down the rocky path as fast as he was able, flying over the uneven ground with no thought to his safety, his heart beating out an excited tamponade that had naught to do with his exertions but all to do with his destination.

The Last Homely House.

A haven of peace and tranquillity after the sphere of constant bloodshed and conflict that his own homeland was becoming.

The place where his heart had found its mate and it could remember the joy of love once more.

Once…

..but no longer.

Not since horror had encroached into its confines and hatred had all but driven love away from the one with whom his song still resonated, and forever would be bound.

"Elrohir."

The whisper left his lips like a sigh upon the wind as he steeled himself for the descent, unsure if he would find a lover riven with guilt and shame or an avenging spirit consumed by anger and bent on destruction.

Whichever it was he knew he would have to be strong enough to bear it, to soothe and calm the ragged edges of a damaged fëa, or rise and follow in hatreds wake, for if he was not his love would fall and if Elrohir was lost…

… then so was he.

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 **A/N** For some reason I can't seem to write anything but angst atm. Hopefully the next prompt will push me towards something more cheerful, but I can't make any promises ;)


	54. Chapter 54 - Cold

**#54 Cold**

"Blasted…pointy…eared…oof!"

Gimli scowled up at the tall, lithe figure laughing merrily down at him from his perch on the gnarled branch of an aged oak tree.

"That…was cheating!" The dwarf growled, shaking his head in an effort to remove the remains of a snowball that was now decorating the long auburn hair on his head and face.

"I never cheat!" Legolas grinned, the sparkle held within his eyes belying his words, as he leapt lightly to the ground in front of his spluttering friend. "How…was that cheating?"

Gimli glowered at the elf's feet which had hardly made a dent in the blanket of white covering the forest floor, even though it had been a drop of almost twice his height.

"Footprints!" He growled. "How in the name of Mahal am I supposed to track you when you pass like a ghost over this dratted, frostbite inducing substance leaving no trace for me to find!"

"But, friend Gimli," Legolas replied quizzically, with a tilt of his head, mirth straining at the edges of his lips. "I was humming a hunting song. I thought you had ears like a fox?"

"Humph! Well. That's as may be!"

The dwarf spluttered, stamped his feet and abruptly turned about.

"Anyway. It's far too cold for silly, elvish games." He stated loudly, the words forming a fog of cold air from his lips and looking almost like the smoke from his beloved pipe weed as he trudged off through the snow muttering under his breath.

"Blasted…pointy eared….."

* * *

 **A/N**

So a change of mood was needed I think after the previous angst and once the picture of Legolas throwing a snowball at Gimli had entered my head after I read the prompt I just couldn't help this little scene from taking shape. Hope you enjoy.


	55. Chapter 55 - Hot

***********WARNING FOR TORTURE, IMPLIED SLASH AND MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH****************************

 **#55 Hot**

Red hot pain burns through Legolas' skin as the lash falls once more, etching another crimson line upon pale alabaster. His world has narrowed to the sickly swish of leather through air followed by the scream of tormented nerve endings begging for peace. How long he has been here he does not know. Time has lost all meaning. He can no longer remember what came before, only that which is now. Pain. Expanding to fill his whole being, his mind whimpers and flees before the onslaught leaving behind a broken shell. His body slumps, lifeless and the whip at last falls silent.

Hands calloused and grimy release metal shackles. Arms gentle and loving gather the broken body close. Lips heated with passion suckle cold unresisting flesh. Too much, he has gone too far this time. Tears fall like silver rain from stormy grey eyes. How have they come to this? How has _he_ come to this? This was not supposed to happen. Gazing down at the beautiful face of the one he once called friend, lover, mate he finally breaks down sobbing to lie across the beaten, bloody remains of that so called love. All the rage and desire within him has fled like snow melting in the pale morning light, leaving behind a cold puddle of broken dreams through which a single whisper ripples.

 _"_ _Ash…Nazg…"_

* * *

 ** _A/N_**

Ok. So this one is for Jack. Not exactly what you asked for but I hope it is enough to combat the fluffyness! Thanks for the comments and for reading.

A short AU loosely based on Crowdaughter's wonderfully dark fic Mael Gul.

Too much?


	56. Chapter 55 - Snow

**#56 Snow**

Hearts filled with pain they watched as she slipped away. Three sentinels, tall and lithe, the gentle lift and fall of their hair in the light breeze the only clue to their living state so unmoving were their forms. A triangle of protection through which none would penetrate unless by their leave. Brothers both by birth and by blood they had promised to remain until naught was left but a memory before sailing away with it locked in their hearts forever.

Pale winter sunlight filtered down between the stark, bare branches casting long, fingerlike shadows over the bed of Niphredil upon which her still form lay, dark widows weeds a stark contrast to the surrounding snow white flowers.

For a moment all fell silent as the once golden forest in which they stood mourned with them. Then, soft as a whisper from afar the song of the world began again, rising in its glory as each part joined in purest harmony until it rang out a crescendo of love and life in honor of the fallen Evenstar, cradling her fëa as it rose higher and higher on its journey to find its mate without the confines of the world.

* * *

 **A/N**

Arwens death at Cerin Amroth in Lothlorien amidst a sea of Niphredil (snowdrops) (I have taken the liberty of having her die in the winter when this blooms)

Back to my more usual style I guess after the darkness of the last drabble. Hope this meets with your approval, even if it is rather morbid.


	57. Chapter 57 - Any One of Us

**#57 Anyone of Us**

As the small band sped through the night, each wrapped up in their own grief, even the usually sure footed and graceful elf stumbling over the irregular terrain a single thought ran through their minds, linking them together with an unseen thread. 'Gandalf is gone'. The unthinkable had happened and they were cast adrift in a sea of uncertainty and loss. Gandalf, Mithrandir, friend, mentor and ever present anchor had been left behind in the great chasm of Moria. Yet as each heart felt it would break, a new, almost treacherous thought, spun its web through the fellowship. 'If Gandalf is gone it could happen to anyone of us' and the darkness in their midst gloated as seeds of doubt, unease and indecision began to take root and grow.

* * *

 **A/N**

You never know, I may just be able to write a true 100 word drabble at some point. I tried hard with this one but just couldn't get rid of 24 words no matter what I did. Must try harder !


	58. Chapter 58 - Friends Forever

**#58 Friends Forever**

The elf smiled gently as he gazed down from his perch in the beech tree above the fellowships temporary camp site and spied the outline of four small forms huddled together against the cold night air. The hobbits never ceased to amaze him. Small in stature yet big in heart they managed to inspire and infuriate at the same time. From the constant stream of inane yet cheering chatter that left the mouth of Peregrine Took to the quiet, loyal devotion of Samwise Gamgee they were most definitely a force to be reckoned with. He sighed allowing his eyes to wander across the small clearing, over the slumbering men, hands resting upon their swords even in sleep, to rest upon the dark mound where Gimli lay, wrapped in his dark cloak and snoring softly. A strange group of travelling companions they might be and although they had yet far to go something told him that no matter their differences and however some might feel otherwise, the friendships they would eventually form would last forever. He grimaced as a loud fart echoed through the air. Of course, that didn't mean he had to get on with the dwarf though, did it.

* * *

 **A/N**

I do love a reflective Legolas ...


	59. Chapter 59 - Feuds

**#59 Feuds**

"Ada! Ada!"

Thranduil's eyebrows twitched as a resigned sigh escaped his pursed lips and Galion chuckled to himself in glee when the tiny force of nature that was his King's only son whirled into the room.

"He has done it again Ada!" The elfling cried, his high voice squeaking in temper. "Even though I told him not to."

A small foot stamped down hard on the stone floor in emphasis.

"Now. Legolas." The king began, his tone even though his eyes belied his calm exterior. "What do we do when we are annoyed?"

"Westaycalmada." The youngster mumbled with a pout.

"And what do we not do?" Thranduil continued with a pointed expression.

"But ada!"

Thranduil's face turned stern and Legolas visibly shrank under his icy glare.

"Weneverhaveatantrum." The child suddenly found his feet to be very fascinating.

"That is right youngling."

The king viewed his tiny son as he squirmed before him wondering just exactly what had happened this time between the mercurial prince and the son of one of his oldest friends.

"And we should always remember we are a prince and as such need to set an example to others."

"Yes Ada."

Thranduil's heart contracted at the forlorn tone but he knew he must not soften or all would be lost. Legolas needed to learn that throwing a tantrum was not the way to get what he wanted. In fact, he needed to learn that he _could_ not always get what he wanted and this pointless feud had to stop. Both he and Mandir's father had let it go on for long enough. The Valar knew what had started it but the two youngsters could not even pass each other by without falling out.

"Now." His tone brooked no argument. "What do we have to do?"

"Goandappologise." Legolas muttered begrudgingly. "But ada…"

"Legolas!"

The youngster flinched at the sharp, icy tone of Thranduil's voice. He knew from past experience not to cross his father when he used that tone.

"I will go and apologize Ada."

"And mean it ion." The older elf urged. "Bearing a grudge is most unseemly."

A snort of disbelief had the king turning to glare warningly over at Gallion before he turned back to watch as his son walked, straight backed and determined from the room.

"Aye." The butler muttered under his breath. "Bearing a grudge is _most unseemly_ indeed!"

* * *

 **A/N**

...and we all know Thranduil would _never_ enter a feud or bear a grudge...

hehehe Thanks for reading. :)


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